The Imprinted Chronicles: AU
by mel.wolfgirl
Summary: "Samantha?" Jacob rumbled, glancing down at their fingers touching. "You and me? Right now we're glued at the finger. Maybe one day we'll be glued at the hand, or the hip, or some other part. But right now, we're starting small. We're glued at the finger, and I'm paying attention, meaning you're not alone. If you've got my finger, I'm going to notice what's happening to you."
1. Prologue

A/N: Since the Den was dropped by its host site, we lost the material posted there. Unfortunately I didn't have most of it saved. However, I had posted this little side project for fun, and so I thought I'd put it here. For those of you that hadn't read it on the Den, this is an Alternate Universe version of the Imprinted Chronicles…a sort of "what if" kind of thing I was writing for fun a while back. I don't have much of it written, and I didn't spend any time in editing, but I wanted it available to those who wanted to reread the AU.

Much love, Mel.

**The Imprinted Chronicles (AU)**

Prologue

Someone needed to tell Embry Call to fix his sign.

Samantha decided that she would definitely _not_ be the one to do it, choosing instead to straighten the small wooden placard as she paused in front of the dojo entrance. Both placard and door looked to have seen better days, a combination of low budget materials and the telltale signs of some sort of human conflict. Possibly repeated human conflict. Wondering slightly if she should trust a sensei that apparently couldn't keep his own students from violence off of the mat, Samantha decided that she didn't really have much choice. It wasn't as if Forks, the next town over, was teeming with alternate dojos for her picking. This was the only one within walking distance of her father's home, so Call's Family Martial Arts Studio would have to do.

Taking a small breath and smoothing a hand over her ponytail just once, Samantha quietly stepped inside. She immediately winced. A large bell jangling loudly over her head made her entrance less stealthy than she would have liked. She glanced at it ruefully, reaching up and silencing it with her fingertips. Announcing your presence to the world wasn't a bad thing, but Samantha had always preferred to be a touch more discreet. The door stuck on its way back closed and she had to tug it hard to get it in place, setting the bell off again to her irritation.

"Annoying, isn't it?" A deep male voice rumbled from across the open exercise room, a touch of humor in his tone. "Customers are hard to come by, so Embry makes sure he doesn't miss them."

Samantha looked back down and saw a tall man seated cross legged on the room's protective mats, a laundry basket full of jumbled wraps at his side and one half-rolled in his hands. But it was the man sitting at his side that caught her gaze. Dark brown eyes locked onto her own and Samantha's breath caught. The world tilted, twisted, and changed. Something important had just happened. Something more important than anything in her young life up to this point.

The man seated cross legged on the mat's handsome face was split with a wide grin, but he didn't matter anymore. All Samantha could see was the other one, the one that was dark hair and broad shoulders and heavily muscled arms. The one that was slowly climbing to his feet, all seven foot two-inches of him, so massive that he should have been frightening. But Samantha wasn't scared. Scared was sitting in a hospital room, watching her mother die. Scared was packing her things and climbing into an airplane, knowing exactly what kind of man would be waiting for her when it landed. Scared was being seventeen years old, and being completely and utterly alone.

Scared was her, up until about a minute and a half ago.

The bag on Samantha's shoulder slipped, hitting the ground with a soft thud, but she ignored it as she stepped forward. Her eyes flickered, instantly committing every line, every plane, to memory. He was beautiful, more than anyone she had ever seen. So stunning that she would spend a lifetime blushing whenever she caught him staring, would spend a lifetime laughing when he winked at her, that lazy smile stretched across his handsome face.

"Seth, you better get to the dojo, man," the other one was murmuring into his cell phone. "You're not going to want to miss this."

But then the man in front of Samantha was moving closer to her, and it didn't matter who was saying what, because this man, _this_ one, was who mattered. He was who would _always_ matter, until the very end.

"I'm Samantha," she said softly, reaching out her hand.

"Jacob Black," the massive stranger rumbled, eyes drinking her in as he took her offered hand.

The moment Jacob Black's fingers folded around hers, that fear, that sick feeling of dread that had lingered in the center of her belly for weeks now finally slid away. As for the loneliness, that too would pass, because this was the start of something amazing, and Samantha knew it. She knew it, with every fiber of her being. Then she grinned at him, because she was still gripping his hand, and instead of thinking she was strange, he was still holding onto hers.

The warmth from Jacob Black's answering grin was like the rising sun.


	2. Chapter 1

**The Imprinted Chronicles (AU)**

Chapter One

They had caught Jake imprinting on tape.

Actually, they had caught it on Embry's cell phone, but that was close enough. It was almost better than Embry remembering it in his head, because once Embry had realized what was happening, his own excitement had made certain moments blurry. No one ever remembered anything happening in _complete_ detail, but Embry's phone could play back what Embry himself had missed, if not with the three dimensional aspect of it all. Jake's imprint had walked into the dojo, had glared at the bell above the door and glanced at him, and then Samantha Carter had locked eyes with Jake.

It was about time their Alpha had found someone he could look at, who wouldn't immediately look away.

For as anti-imprinting as Jake had always been, he was taking it well. Maybe because of the way she had smiled at him, an action that had immediately transformed her features into one of the prettiest girls that Embry had ever seen. Maybe it was the way that she was able to pull herself away from staring at Jake, introducing herself to Embry with a confident professionalism that girls her age rarely showed. She was new in town, had a college scholarship that she needed to do community service hours to maintain her eligibility for, and she hoped that she could combine her interest in martial arts and the requirements into one.

This girl was determined, directed, knew what she wanted from life and where she was going, and Embry could tell that it amused his Alpha that even the effects of imprinting could only keep her from her mission for so long. Maybe it was the fact that she kept shooting Jake small smiles despite her conversation with Embry that he liked, or the way her eyes tracked his movements when he shifted, or how it never occurred to her to step backwards when he stepped forward, no matter how much he towered over her.

It was probably the fact that Jake's imprint had the absolutely best ass of any girl the Alpha had ever met, including Bella Swan and Leah Clearwater and those women in those magazines that Billy pretended weren't under Jake's mattress.

"So, are you going to talk to her?" Seth asked the next day, grinning at his Alpha. Jake had taken up residence on Seth's front porch, parked on the porch railing with one foot kicked up. He'd been craning his neck, trying to see inside the windows of the house down the road, where he knew she was at.

"I'm playing it cool."

"By stalking her from the safety of my place?" Seth teased. "Why don't you go talk to her? I've seen the video, and I'm pretty sure she's not going to send you running."

Jake hummed non-committedly, still watching the house that his imprint had just vacated. He didn't blame her. It was starting to get pretty loud over there.

"You know, not that I'm the expert or anything on imprinting," the Beta murmured, "But if I was your imprint—"

"Now that's disturbing." Leah shuddered from her place on the chair next to Seth's, and Jake gave her a grin. The she-wolf hadn't liked the fact that Jake had imprinted one single bit, but she'd abstained from giving him hell over it, saying that was as supportive of this as she was currently willing to get.

Seth rolled his eyes. "I would be a _fabulous_ imprint, not that any of you asses have bothered to try imprinting on me. But as I was saying, if I was your imprint, I'd much rather be anywhere than on Carter's front porch, listening to him get drunk."

Leah sighed and climbed to her feet. "The pup has a point. I'm tired of listening to it, and I'm all the way over here. Later, boys, I'm going to find someone more interesting to spend the evening with."

"Tell Jack I said hi," Jake replied, the bones in his neck popping as he craned his head again. She was on the porch swing. Maybe she'd want to go for a ride instead of…was she sleeping? How the hell was she able to sleep with all of that going on?

"By the way, dipshit, leave your jacket at home," Leah suggested with another sigh. "The bike's cool, but unless she's got nerves of steel, the entirety of you can be a little much."

"What does that mean?"

Leah didn't answer, instead sauntering back into the house to change. Jake watched her go, eyes flickering over his only she-wolf's form with possessive appreciation before returning to the street. He also shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it at Seth.

"Here, hold this. If my imprint eats my balls for dinner, consider it your Alpha advancement gift."

Seth grinned from his front porch, watching Jake all the way up until his mother called him to dinner. Which was why, when it all went to hell, Seth ended up passed out cold in a plate of fried chicken.

* * *

><p>She was curled up on her father's porch swing, dozing lightly despite the noises inside the house, when the sound of a rumbling motorcycle engine starting down the street woke her. Samantha raised her head, blinking sleepily as the rumbling grew louder, approaching the house. She expected it to pass by, but when the large bike pulled up in front of her father's house, Samantha roused herself a little more. One of her father's friends had a motorcycle, but he was already inside, half a bottle of Jack Daniels into the evening. If this was another Bradley Jennings type of man, Samantha didn't want to be backed into a corner the way she was like this.<p>

It wasn't one of her father's friends.

Jacob Black didn't get off of his bike, but he roll it around in a three point turn so that she could see his front instead of his back. And when he killed the engine, Jacob leaned forward on the handlebars, arms draped lazily and an easy smile on his face.

"You have a motorcycle," Samantha said playfully from her porch swing, eyeing the Harley. "My mother warned me about boys with motorcycles, Jacob Black."

The massive, dark-haired man's face looked even more handsome with that confident, lazy grin. "I promise it's the worst of my failings."

She hummed non-committedly, rising to her feet and padding over to the top of the steps, leaning her hip against the old, worn porch railing. "I'll take your word on that."

Jacob didn't go up to her, and she didn't go down to him, and Samantha found herself amused by it. She didn't know why, but for some reason she just knew that Jacob _wanted_ to get up and walk over to her, but he wasn't willing to come onto her turf without invitation. Samantha considered inviting him, but in truth, this wasn't her turf either.

Raucous laughter from the living room made his eyes flicker from her face to the house behind her, and Jacob raised an eyebrow.

"It's a little crazy over here, huh?"

Samantha couldn't argue with that, and she shrugged. "Everyone's allowed friends," Samantha murmured, dismissing them. "So, what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" She shot a playful smile his way. "Didn't you get enough of my staring at you yesterday?"

Jacob barked out a laugh at that, his eyes sparkling despite how far away he was from her. "Maybe _I_ wasn't done staring, Samantha Carter," he shot back.

Samantha hummed again, drumming her fingernails against her jean-clad hip. "If you're going to be high maintenance, Jacob Black, you might want to find another person on a porch swing," she warned him. "I'm a busy girl these days."

He didn't answer, but she could practically feel his amusement and pleasure. He liked that she wasn't afraid to tease him. She blinked at the realization, wondering why she was so certain about the emotions of someone she had only spoken to for a couple minutes the previous day. Before she could think about it too much, Jacob crossed his arms over his chest, the action pulling her attention to the most distracting feature on his body. Samantha had always been a sucker for broad shoulders, especially when they were attached to a strong, lean torso and a pair of arms that muscled.

Jacob must have known she was evaluating him again, because he held himself relaxed and easy beneath her gaze, and Samantha could feel his own eyes taking her in. Samantha let him look, not intimidated by his doing so, but still feeling her heart rate rising in response to being the focus of his attention. Realizing that they were back to staring, just like yesterday, Samantha suddenly grinned.

"I'm not going to blink first, if that's what you're waiting for," she told him cheerfully. "Better find someone else to look at, because I've never lost a staring contest yet. Especially not with guys who ride motorcycles."

The huge man on the bike had the brightest, whitest smile. Samantha liked how it looked on his face.

"I considered showing up on a scooter, but it didn't have quite the same dangerous appeal," Jacob chuckled. "I did leave my leather jacket at home, so I wouldn't have _too_ much dangerous appeal. It's less fun when the girl bolts for the house and locks the door."

Samantha straightened and walked down a couple steps, letting her eyes slide over him. Dangerous? Maybe. She could see how maybe someone might think that. The potential was there, a readiness in muscles not quite as relaxed as they could be.

"You put a lot of thought into this," she murmured, borderline teasing, but with a note of question in her voice. Jacob nodded, although Samantha had the feeling it was to her unspoken question as much as her spoken statement. He had thought about what he was wearing, and what he was driving, because Jacob Black wanted to catch her attention and keep it.

Samantha knew that of all the things going on in her life right now, whether or not to talk to a boy wasn't something that should be high on her priority list. But she liked talking to Jacob Black, and just like yesterday, being in his presence made Samantha feel like she wanted to talk to him more. Talk to him, touch his hand again. And if he offered, despite the fact that she had school first thing in the morning, Samantha just might…

"I know it's late, but do you want to go for a ride?" he asked, reading her mind as he patted the seat behind him. And oh, was Samantha was tempted, because it was clear that going anywhere with this boy was probably going to be a whole lot more fun than sitting here and listening to her father get drunker and drunker with his friends.

"Sam! Where the hell are you, girl? _Sam_!"

Speak of the devil.

"I'm outside, asshole," she muttered under her breath, softly enough that the man on the motorcycle shouldn't have been able to hear. But by the smirk on his face, he had heard her quite clearly, although his eyes had flickered to the house behind her. Samantha turned and walked back up the steps, saying louder, "I'm here, Dad. Did you need something?"

The day Joe Carter had picked Samantha up from the airport, his sheer size had made her hesitate a moment, had made her evaluate him carefully before approaching within arm's length. It wasn't that she was scared of him, necessarily, but Samantha had a healthy respect for this man.

"Sam, get your ass in here and make us some dinn—" her father's voice cut off abruptly as he saw who was standing outside his house. In the time she had turned around, Jacob had gotten off of his bike and was leaning back against it, arms still crossed easily in front of his chest. Samantha watched her father's face turn an interesting shade of red as he snarled, "What the hell are you doing on my land, Black?"

"I'm not _on_ your land, Mr. Carter," Jacob said, not sounding worried in the least. In fact, he looked the complete opposite, relaxed and utterly unconcerned. "I'm out in the street, actually. I came by to see if Samantha wanted to go for a drive with me."

"The hell she will, you piece of shit sonofabitch."

Jacob didn't look bothered at all, at least not until Joe stepped back into the house, grabbing the gun next to the front door as he did, striding over to Samantha. Samantha's eyes went wide as her father gripped her arm and jerked her behind him, roughly enough that it would bruise her arm. "_Get off my land_," Joe snapped, the sawed off rifle making a loud clicking noise as he cocked it with a jerk of one hand.

"Dad, Jacob's a _friend_," Samantha tried to say, but his hand closed around her arm painfully tight, and he snarled at her to shut her up. Jacob's eyes narrowed, and Samantha seriously considered breaking Joe's hold on her. She didn't make a habit of letting anyone manhandle her, and Samantha's temper flared. Still, she forced it down, gritting her teeth. "Dad, I'll get him to leave, okay? I'm sorry, I didn't know."

Her father had never taken his eyes off of Jacob, and when the dark haired young man straightened to his full height, Joe snarled something in Quileute that Samantha didn't understand. Jacob didn't answer, but he did raise an eyebrow at him. In response, Joe sighted down his gun.

"Shoot 'em, Joe," one of her father's friends grunted from the doorway behind her.

"Dad, _I'll get rid of him_," Samantha promised in her frustration, deciding that if he didn't release her arm soon, she was either going to have to break his grip or wear long sleeved shirts for the next few weeks. And when his hand tightened down even more, Samantha had had enough. She bent her father's thumb, twisting his hand at the wrist in a way that made him curse in pain and release her. Moving faster than any of the men were prepared for, Samantha twisted and placed herself in front of her father and his shotgun, protecting the first person that had been kind to her in this town.

Realizing what she had done, Joe Carter snarled again, deep in his throat. He also kept the shotgun pointed exactly where it was.

It wasn't the first time she'd stared down the barrel of a gun. But it had never occurred to Samantha that her father would be the one holding it on her this time, no matter how much she'd been prepared by her mother for what he was like. Samantha was still trying to decide if she was going to disarm him when she felt Jacob move directly behind her. Felt, not heard, although she didn't know how he had closed the distance so quickly.

Jacob Black was tall, so much taller than Samantha that in simply standing behind her, Joe was forced to raise his gun higher to aim at Jacob's chest. One heavily muscled arm slowly wrapped around Samantha's waist, and she felt herself being pulled sideways behind another body, far more gently this time. Unlike her father, Jacob didn't hurt her, even if he was holding her there by force.

"I might be on your porch, Joe Carter, but you're on _my_ land," Jacob growled in a voice so heavy with contained fury that Samantha felt the weight of it across her shoulders. "This is my land, and the people on it are _my_ people. Keep that gun on her, and they will _never_ find the pieces of you that are left."

"Does that sound like a threat to you, Bradley?" Joe asked, smirking viciously. "Cause it sounds like this little shit came onto my property and threatened me."

"That's what I heard, Joe. Boys, you all heard it, right?"

Her father spat on the ground. "Looks to me like I've got full rights to protect myself, don't I?"

"Dad! Quit it! Jacob, just go."

But no one was listening to Samantha.

"You asshole, your daughter is right behind me," Jacob snapped, and Samantha saw a tremor roll through those same shoulders she had been staring at only a few minutes ago.

"She ain't mine. She's here one day, and she's already thrown in with your lot? Sam ain't mine." That…shouldn't have hurt nearly as badly as it did. "Someone should have put a bullet in one of you freaks years ago, Black," her father continued. "Last chance to start running."

But Jacob didn't go anywhere. No, he just growled, a noise that sounded so dangerous, Samantha went still. Her father's friends did the same, one even shifting backwards a few steps, but Joe Carter's eyes just narrowed. Samantha truly hadn't thought that he would do it, he wouldn't shoot at someone, not when there was sure to be people watching in the houses next door. He wouldn't shoot at her, his daughter, no matter how estranged her parents had been.

The loud cracking noise of the sawed off shotgun firing at close range proved her wrong.

Samantha cried out when the gun went off, years of inner-city living making her duck, but instead of watching blood splatter across the sidewalk all she saw was dirt and grass kick up next to their feet. Jacob's arm had locked around her, his body so completely in front of her that Samantha couldn't see her father at all. But she could hear him, even if she wished that she couldn't.

"I don't care what I promised your momma," her father spat, sounding cold. "Get your shit and get the hell out of here, Sam. You're not welcome here." Then he raised the gun again, pointing it at Jacob. "As for you, Black, you got five seconds to get out of here too. This time I ain't aiming at the dirt."

Without a doubt, Samantha knew that Joe Carter meant every word. She tried to get around Jacob, but his arm kept her back, safely behind him. "Go," Samantha hissed, pulling on Jacob's waist. "Please, just go."

"Like hell I will," he snarled, as immovable as a boulder.

Samantha let out a noise of frustration, nearly on the edge of tears. "Jacob Black, please go. He won't hurt me, but he will hurt you. I don't know you, but I can't watch anyone else die right now. _Please_."

Maybe it was the way her voice cracked at that last sentence, but she managed to back him up a step, then another. And when it was clear that with each step, Joe Carter looked more satisfied, his gun lowering a little, Samantha was finally able to duck around Jacob.

Samantha didn't look at Jacob's face, because she just didn't want to deal with whatever might be there. She was embarrassed and shaken. More upset than she had thought possible for having only lived here for two days. But more than any of those things, Samantha was scared for Jacob, and she needed him to get off of her dad's yard and to just go away. Go away and be safe, she needed him to be safe more than anything.

"Sam!" her father bellowed, and Samantha shoved at Jacob this time, no matter how much it hurt her hands.

"He's going, Dad, and I am too." She shot Joe a pleading look as she abandoned Jacob and walked past her father quickly, hurrying into the house.

She hadn't unpacked, and it was a good thing that she didn't have much to take anyways. Grabbing her workout bag and the duffle that still held everything she owned in the world, Samantha tried not to panic. He was throwing her out. She had been so determined to get along here, to get along with her father, but he was throwing her out.

Samantha had no idea where she was supposed to go, or what she was supposed to do.

The motorcycle engine revved to life, and Samantha was thankful for that at least. Jacob Black needed to get the hell out of there before Joe Carter really did shoot him. Samantha had no reservations in her mind that her father was capable of it. He was a mean drunk, and only a few more drinks away from not caring who might hear or see what he did or didn't do.

"Mom, what do I do?" Samantha whispered, wiping the back of her hand across her face quickly, not letting the physical proof of her fear show. Never show fear, never let them see you hurt. Never let them see you weak. It was tempting to go back into the living room and beg him to let her stay. She had been prepped for years to deal with the reality of Joe Carter, but a life without her mother and without her father had never occurred to her. If she broke down and cried in front of him, if she promised to never get in his way again, he might give in. But Samantha had too much pride to do that, no matter how unready she was for the unknown outside.

What she would do was walk out of here and keep walking. There was a town not that far away and she could maybe make it there by the morning, faster if she hitchhiked. She could go to the police, and tell them…tell them that she was a minor who didn't…

Samantha forced down that too. She'd deal with it when the time came.

Joe Carter never even looked at his only child as she walked out, her two bags over her shoulder and her face drawn tightly. "Bye Dad," she whispered, because Samantha hadn't wanted things to go like this. Maybe someday, somehow, it would change.

He never said a word.

* * *

><p>Jake's imprint had looked only faintly concerned as she walked briskly back into Joe Carter's house to get her things. Inside she was panicking.<p>

Her fear had nearly driven him to phase, to push past these stupid fucks and force his way into the house after her, to guard her and to kill anyone that even looked at her wrong. Instead Jake had kept his human form, barely, and had stayed in place, although he had done so at great effort. It had taken pulling on every single member of his Pack to maintain his calm, using them to anchor himself in one spot. It had taken them again to force himself back a step.

That motherfucker had pointed a _gun_ at Jake's _imprint_. And if Joe had chosen to shoot at the grass on Jacob's left—the side Samantha had been on—instead of the grass at Jake's right, it wouldn't have mattered how Samantha's voice had sounded when she'd whispered that she couldn't watch anyone else die today.

Jake had never wanted to kill a human before. This feeling flooding through his body was new to him.

Her words were the only reason he was still trying to do as she had asked him, the single reason that Jake was still trying to force himself to step backwards when he would much rather go forward. Go forward and snatch that prick by the neck and watch him strangle in Jake's fist. Go forward and phase, to hell with who saw, to hell with what that would mean for his Pack. Go forward and tear every inch of flesh off of Carter's bones with his jaws and claws for bruising Jake's imprint's arm, for making her cry out in fear when that gun had gone off. But Samantha wanted him to go backwards, to leave, and if Jake phased, he'd go forward and he wouldn't hold back. Joe Carter had no idea that his daughter had just saved his life.

Maybe. Jake was well aware of how hard his clenched fists were shaking.

There was no one to protect these men from Jake if he snapped. There was no Alpha order to contain him, and he would do exactly as he pleased. There was no other Alpha, but inside Jake's head, the Beta was trying. Seth was pleading with Jake to back up and get away from the house, because each step he took away, the less angry Carter smelled. The safer Samantha would be. It was all about keeping her safe, right? Calming down Carter was the first thing that would make that happen, and Seth knew that phasing in the middle of Carter's front yard wasn't going to help.

Jake took another step, because he really needed to. Seth was talking to him a mile a minute, so loud in his head that Seth must have been using the Pack to boost him as well. By the time this was over, Jake would be lucky if any of his wolves weren't face down in the dirt.

The fact that his Pack was going to be hurt because of this only made Jake even angrier, his whole body shaking with his fury. He hadn't been this mad since he had learned Bella's plans to be changed.

Seth understood how angry Jake was, but they couldn't kill humans. Samantha was okay, Paul was at her bedroom window, and he could see her. Sam was just outside the back door, and between him and Paul, Seth knew that no one could get to her before they could. Collin was in the house now, in the bathroom, Brady in the garage. Leah was on the house, tracking Samantha's steps and ready to go straight through the roof if she so much heard the click of that gun again. They could get to her, Jake's imprint would be okay, but there was no one to stop Jake. Seth knew that in the end, hurting Carter would only hurt Jake's imprint, and Jake's Pack, and Jake himself. They couldn't become killers, not unless they absolutely had to. It was a line that they simply couldn't cross.

The Beta wasn't above begging. _Please_ don't.

Jake took another step back, and Seth nearly had a stroke trying to hold _Jake_ out in the yard when Carter shouldered his gun and spat derisively, heading back inside his home. A Beta couldn't hold an Alpha, not even with the whole Pack behind him, not even a Beta as strong as Seth. The fact that Seth was trying in the first place was what made Jake finally understand how tenuous his hold on his temper was. Leah was directly above her?

Yes, the Beta promised, sounding like he was on the verge of passing out. And Collin was literally _on her heels_, not that she could see him.

Why didn't Jake know that? Why did Seth know where Jake's wolves were instead of Jake knowing?

Collin's voice was soft in the Alpha's mind, the young wolf tremoring with the stress of this. Jake had called them all when Carter pulled his gun on Jake's imprint, and he had ordered them to protect her. Jake just didn't remember doing it, he was so pissed. Collin was worried, because Jake was strangling Seth and didn't realize it.

Seth's voice was stronger in the Alpha's mind, if still far too weak. If Jake couldn't get ahold of himself before Seth passed out from trying to hold Jake back, then there would be nothing blocking the Pack from Jake's anger, and they wouldn't be able to keep themselves from reacting. Please, please, Jake, just get on the bike and start it up.

He did.

And then Jake could see her, he could smell her, and when Samantha looked at his bike, Jake could almost taste the relief he felt. Seth latched onto that faster than Jake could stop him, pressing his own emotions on Jake _hard_. Relief was good. Relief meant that she was okay, and now Jake could drive away. Relief was what would make Jake's hands stop shaking, would make him safer to be next to his imprint, because she was heading Jake's way.

Jake knew what Seth was doing, and Jake wanted him to stop. Jake was in control of himself now, and Seth shouldn't do that again. It was dangerous, Seth wasn't strong enough to try and manipulate the Pack bonds to Jake, the way he could to the others.

Seth knew, but his options at the time had been limited. They had all felt their Alpha snap, and making a grab for him had been instinctive. Seth had been doing the same for the Pack ever since Jake had taken off six months ago, and he hadn't ever _had_ to try and grab Jake before. Jake's control had always been better than Seth's. But Seth had committed before he realized what he was doing. Speaking of which, the room was spinning…

Jake's attention was on his imprint now, Seth's voice fading into the background. Samantha must have thought he had left. That could be the only explanation for the look on her face when she stepped away from that house, that horrible house that Jake's imprint should never have had to go into in the first place. She didn't run, she didn't scurry, she walked out with her head held high and her steps unhurried as she moved towards him.

"Is that offer of a ride still good?" his imprint asked quietly, glancing back at the house, her eyes worried, and Jake's jaw finally unlocked. He'd been grinding his teeth so hard, he hadn't known if he would be able to speak.

"Yeah. Get on."

Her arms locked around his waist as Jake gunned the bike away from that place. She was touching him, and she was okay, no matter how her cry of fear at that gunshot had flipped a switch in him, had made him almost lose his mind. Shit, Jake couldn't believe he hadn't phased, and he was pretty sure he knew he had a Beta with a migraine to thank. Seth? Seth, you okay?

A mental thumbs up was all Jake got before Seth went face deep in a plate of his mom's fried chicken. Leah made sure to eat his chicken before pulling his head out…you know, just in case her little brother suffocated.

* * *

><p>When the motorcycle hit the highway leading out of La Push, gunning forward with far more speed than was probably legal, Samantha was perfectly fine with it. She had loosened her grip on his waist before they had even hit the end of her father's street, more worried about keeping her hastily arranged bags from falling. But then he had reached behind him and grabbed her duffle, stuffing it between the handlebars and his front, leaving Samantha to readjust her gym bag over her shoulders and to grip the seat beneath her more firmly.<p>

Normally she would have enjoyed the rush, but frankly, Samantha'd had enough excitement tonight to last her for a while. When it was clear that Jacob wasn't planning on slowing down anytime soon, no matter what the speed limit was, Samantha thumped her fist against his ribcage lightly to get his attention.

"Can you slow down?" Samantha called up, raising her voice for him to hear her above the engine and the wind in their faces. "Jacob?"

He didn't answer, and he didn't slow down, and like so many things lately, there was absolutely nothing that she could do about it. So Samantha closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against Jacob Black's back. She shouldn't have leaned into him, a stranger, but he was going so _fast_, and she wasn't wearing a helmet. Something about having her forehead against the solid muscle in front of her made it easier to ignore the trees whipping past in the near blackness that was rural Washington in the middle of the night. For a moment it seemed like he was ignoring her, then the tension in him seemed to lower down a notch and the massive fist gripping the throttle relaxed. He didn't just slow down, he slowed down enough to swing the bike off onto the berm of the highway, coming to a stop.

"Sorry," Jacob grunted, letting the engine idle.

"It's okay," Samantha said softly, placing her palms flat down on the seat between herself and Jacob, leaning on them tiredly. "I can appreciate a fast getaway as much as the next girl. I just need to stop a moment and breathe."

"You and me both." He gave her a once over, then cleared his throat. "Are you gonna think I'm a serial killer if we stay out here a few minutes? Cause I need to chill out for a while."

Samantha shook her head, then gave him a strained smile. "I get it. If I were you, I'd be pissed off too."

She fell silent, not sure how to fill the silence between them and not sure she even wanted to. The gun thing had sucked, but in the end, not nearly as much as what was bound to come next. He had thrown her out. Shit. _Shit_.

When it was clear that Samantha wasn't going to start talking, Jacob exhaled heavily. "You okay?"

Samantha ignored that, because there wasn't a good answer. No, but she didn't know him and she wasn't ready to share her weaknesses with him any more than he'd already seen tonight. Instead Samantha looked around, frowning at the darkness of the road in front of them, murmuring, "It's pitch black out here."

Jacob glanced in the direction she was looking, then tilted his head. "It's not so bad tonight. When it rains, it gets harder to see. No one's going to hit us, if you're worried about that."

"I'm a city girl. The closest thing to the country as I've ever been was building a tent with my blankets in my bedroom when I was little, and turning the lights out. It's dark to me."

Maybe it should have made her nervous that he turned more sideways at that, twisting at the waist and gripping either side of the seat she was sitting on. It caged her in, and Samantha didn't like being cornered. But this guy had stepped in between her and a gun tonight, and he didn't even know her. Besides, she was shivering from the wind blowing across the road, and his body was warm. Samantha didn't lean into Jacob again, but she didn't try to scoot away when he shifted nearer.

"I should have brought the jacket," he murmured, and Samantha looked up. Jacob was gazing down at her, watching gooseflesh rise on her arms. "Giving a chick a jacket usually goes over a lot better."

"It usually goes over better than what?" Samantha asked, pretty sure she already knew the answer. One of the large hands gripping the seat just beneath her hips moved to her waist, slowly, as if trying to give her plenty of warning about his intentions. Then, when she didn't freak out on him, Jacob Black wrapped one of this massively muscled arms around her, tugging her closer to him.

He wasn't just warm. His skin was burning to the touch, like he was fevered. But unlike someone with a fever, his eyes were clear, and he wasn't sweating at all. Jacob was simply hot, and she was cold. Samantha scooted the last little bit between them, her own arm wrapping around his waist in turn. Hot or not, he had been trembling too.

Samantha didn't know how long they stayed like that, holding each other but not leaning against each other. Strangers, but then again, there was no one between Washington and Illinois that wasn't. The loneliness struck her hard, like a fist to the gut, and Samantha pulled away. She couldn't see the strain in her own eyes, but she could feel the hopelessness washing through her as she scanned the darkness once again. No, things weren't hopeless. Things just…just weren't what she had prepared for. It wasn't in her nature to give up, to let things crush her no matter how heavy they could be. Okay, so maybe she was now parentless and homeless, jobless. She would figure things out, like she always had. Samantha was just going to have to wing it.

Stiffening her spine, Samantha placed her hand on Jacob's wrist, gently tugging in a silent request for him to release her. She didn't know what was going to happen now, but sitting on a motorcycle in the middle of the woods with a stranger—a brave, handsome stranger, but still a stranger—wasn't going to help her.

"Yeah, I know," Jake rumbled, eyes once again tracking where hers went. "I can take you wherever you want to go, Samantha, but it's late. I'd rather take you back to my place right now, for a little while at least. I know you don't know me very well, but I need to let Billy know what happened tonight and help smooth out any problems it's causing."

"Billy?"

"My father. He's the tribal chief."

Samantha nodded. "Okay. That'll give me some time to figure out a Plan B. Just give me a second, I want to get a sweatshirt out."

Jacob handed her the duffle he had taken from Samantha earlier, watching her dig through the partially full bag. "When he cools off, I'll help you get the rest of your stuff," Jacob promised her, and Samantha quirked him a smile as she pulled her only sweatshirt on.

"This is all I've got." Samantha told him quietly, handing the duffle back over. It was easier for him to hold it than for her to try and balance two bags herself. "I sold everything I could spare before I moved, for the extra cash."

"At least that's easier to carry than a whole shitload of suitcases," Jacob rumbled as he turned and started up the Harley, seeming to agree with her logic.

As she settled in behind him, the young woman gripped the seat beneath her and stifled a bitter laugh. Samantha had no intention of telling Jacob Black how empty her pockets actually were, or that everything she had to spare had been just enough to buy her mother's headstone. Some things were better staying unspoken, buried safely in the past.

* * *

><p>His imprint was shaken, but Jake had to hand it to her. Samantha Carter could keep a poker face with the best of them. Barely two days in La Push and she'd already been evicted from the only place she'd had to stay, by the only family she had in the town.<p>

Of course, she had no idea that two days into La Push and she'd been imprinted on by the Alpha of a Pack of shape shifting wolves. And whatever else that might mean, she would _never_ be without a bed to crash in again. Because she didn't know that, she shouldn't have seemed nearly so calm about him pulling down the dimly lit drive to his father's house.

Jake was pretty sure he liked that she was.

"My sisters moved out a few years ago, so it's just my father and me," Jake told her as he killed the engine on his motorcycle. It was instinct, really, that made him hand her bag back to her instead of carrying it inside for her. The same instinct made him go inside his house first instead of holding the door for her. Samantha followed him, over a foot and a half shorter and probably half his weight. His father was just hanging up the phone and couldn't see Jake's imprint at first.

"Jacob, what happened?" Billy asked, wheeling around the corner. "Sue just called and said there was a fight down at Carter's place. Oh. Son, who's your friend?"

"Billy, this is Samantha," Jake told his dad as he led her into the small kitchen. "Sam, this is my father, Billy Black. Dad, Sam's old man Carter's daughter."

"Ah."

Billy's single word spoke volumes, and Samantha was still standing there, her face expressionless. Jake tried to judge what to tell his father, but it was hard to read her when she was this closed down.

"I screwed up," Jake finally said, giving the girl standing in the kitchen an apologetic look. "I knew Carter wouldn't like me being over there, but I wanted to go talk to Samantha. I know how he gets when he's drinking and I didn't leave."

"It's not your fault my father's an alcoholic, Jacob," Samantha said quietly. "He's not your responsibility."

Jake shook his head, growling lightly. "You'd be surprised who's my responsibility."

When she raised an eyebrow at him, bringing her focus more on him, Jake found himself straightening beneath her regard. As big as he was, Jake usually had to try and make himself smaller to accommodate the world around him. Later it would probably strike him as funny that he was trying to look bigger and stronger for her, when she was so slender and short. Jake always had struggled in impressing the women he wanted to impress, but she only smiled slightly at him and touched his arm, a gesture that couldn't be mistaken for anything but reassurance.

After tonight, his imprint was trying to reassure _him_.

Samantha's eyes were already moving again, taking in her surroundings, so she missed the look Billy was giving him. Jake quirked Billy a lopsided smile, knowing his father was near bursting with curiosity. So far Jake had kept his imprinting a secret from everyone but his Pack, not wanting to deal with the inevitable Council questions. If Sue learned of it, she'd never be able to leave Jake's imprint alone, and Billy already had a stupid smile spreading across his craggy face. Old Quil would probably make comments about her parentage, and Jake never had liked punching old men who couldn't defend themselves. So he had kept it to himself. Apparently the honeymoon period was already over. He could practically see visions of grandpuppies in his father's eyes.

"So what happened tonight?"

"Carter pulled a gun on me," Jake grunted, feeling that anger curling through his gut again. "Sam stepped in between us and he kept the gun on her. Carter kicked her out because of it."

That was all he needed to say. Billy knew exactly how they got over the imprints, and Jake could see the color drain from his father's face. Billy cleared his throat. "Well, then I suppose we should be grateful it wasn't worse. Samantha, you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like. Jacob? When you're done, can I speak to you in private?"

Jake nodded curtly, turning to his imprint. She had been watching them wordlessly, and he could feel her stress twisting alongside his own anger at the evening's events. Knowing that he had to calm himself—he was obviously imprinted far more tightly to her than the others were—Jake took a deep breath and closed the distance between them. Samantha's eyes stayed on his as he squeezed her hand.

"My room's a mess, but it's yours if you want it. There's a pair of bunk beds in the twins' old room, but we've got the room stuffed full of too much crap for you to get to them."

"What about you?"

Jake shook his head. "I've got some damage control to do, and then some rez stuff. I probably won't be back until morning, but I'll take the couch if I am. Will you feel comfortable being here alone with Billy?"

Her smile was strained, but she still tried. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Where should I put my stuff?"

Jake showed her to his room, snagging up the growing pile of dirty clothes from the floor and tossing them in his closet, closing the door. A cursory glance at the room showed absolutely none of her feelings about it, messy or not, and she sat down slowly on the edge of his bed, her bags at her feet. They were close enough that Jake could smell her distress now, no matter what little her expression showed.

The Alpha sat down next to her, once more taking her hand. "Honey, I know you don't know me and I know you're probably pissed that I got you thrown out of your home. Who can I call for you?"

His imprint's hand was shaking slightly as she touched it to his arm. "Dad was the only one. There's no one to call." Closing her eyes, Samantha took a deep breath. Samantha's lips tightened, and through the imprint bond, Jake could feel her stress rise despite her even calmer sounding voice. "Okay, this can be okay. I need to call the local police and let them know that I'm a homeless minor. They'll make arrangements for me to stay somewhere after tonight."

Jake stood up. "How about this: you can stay here as long as you need to, so you don't have to worry about the homeless part. Just try to get some sleep and one of us will take you to school tomorrow morning. In the meantime, Billy can make some calls and we'll see what strings we can pull. You're on the reservation now, Samantha, and the tribal council is the local authority. We govern our own, and you count as our own. We'll find somewhere you feel comfortable with."

Samantha let out a soft, exhausted sigh, before suddenly laughing quietly. It was a harsh, bitter sound. "My dad held a gun on me tonight." She closed her eyes, turning her face away. "Jacob? Can I have a minute?"

"Yeah," he nodded, feeling his body already resisting leaving her. "Yeah, just call me if you need something."

The walk from the bed to the door was ridiculously difficult. The distance from the closed bedroom door to the arm of the living room couch was even harder. He could smell her fear along with her shame, could feel her helplessness through the imprint bond, and it messed with him. A _lot_.

She waited until she thought he wouldn't be able to hear her, and then Samantha lay down on his bed and began to cry softly. He tried, he really did, but Jake simply couldn't listen to her small, muffled sobs. It was a trigger, and it pushed him to his feet, pushed him through the bedroom door and over to his bed. Samantha had heard him come in, and she turned, stiffening defensively, but Jake simply settled down next to the bed, leaning his back against the side of the mattress.

This imprint was barely twenty-four hours old and he'd already screwed everything up for her. Jake couldn't figure out why she wasn't screaming at him.

"I'm not sure that was a minute," Samantha mumbled, wiping her face.

"It was forty-seven seconds," Jake replied, voice quiet as he stared across his room at the door. "That's how long I can listen to you cry."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't move her hand when he shifted so that his shoulder was almost touching her fingertips. "Sam, I know you don't know me. I know everything here smells different and feels different from what you're used to, and that's scary. But in the morning, Billy's alarm is going to go off, and it's going to be so loud and annoying that you'll wake up no matter how deeply you sleep. He's going to make coffee and read the newspaper, and cook some of the best scrambled eggs you've ever had."

Her face turned back into his pillow, and Jake could hear her taking deep, steadying breaths. "And then what?" Samantha asked quietly, as if looking for a distraction.

Jake wanted to turn around, but she seemed to be doing better with this combination of closeness and space, so he stayed where he was, arms resting loosely over his knees. "Then you're going to take a shower in a bathroom that probably will gross you out, because neither of us likes to clean it very much."

"That doesn't sound promising," Samantha murmured, and Jake chuckled.

"No, it'll be pretty nasty," he admitted. "But then you're going to go to a school where everyone's going to be staring at you because you're new. It'll be okay, though, because you'll already have friends. Their names are Seth Clearwater, Quil Ateara, Brady Jennings, and Collin Littlesea, and they are good guys who will help you out with whatever you need them to. And when school is over, you're going to go beat on a punching bag with Embry for a while, and then you're going to come back to a house that you don't know, with two people you don't know, and you're going to get fed a massive plate of spaghetti. Trust me, it'll be so huge and you'll be so carb overloaded that you won't even care that we're strangers. You'll pass out on my bed again, and you'll start it all over."

"I like spaghetti," his imprint mumbled into his pillow. "Will there be garlic bread?"

Jake leaned his head back, giving her a wink. "I might be able to swing that, depending on if you share one of my pillows with me tonight." A pillow was scooted his way, and the Alpha balled it up behind his head, slouching lower and making himself comfortable as he yawned. "Garlic bread it is."

Silence, then, "You stepped in between me and a gun today, Jacob Black."

"You stepped in between _me_ and gun today, Samantha Carter. For the record, you don't need to do that. Please don't do that."

More silence, then a hopeful little sound in her throat. "The best scrambled eggs I've ever had, huh?"

"The _best_."

She fell asleep not too long afterwards, not touching him but not asking him to leave. Jake was torn, but he decided that leaving her alone was probably better. She seemed like the type that did better with space, and he had some things he needed to take care of.

Billy was waiting for him as Jake came out of his room, closing the door quietly. "Son? Did you—?"

Jake nodded, and then laughed softly. "Yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday, when she came into Embry's. I was trying to play it cool, wait a day or two to talk to her again, but then things just went to hell. I need to call Seth."

"Sue said Seth's sleeping it off. Leah checked on him, and besides having a headache, he's fine."

Jake frowned, then sighed. "Dad, I almost freaked out there tonight. I got her behind me, but she screamed when he fired, and I just…shit. I don't know, I almost lost it. Seth tried to hold me back, and I should be over there fixing how badly I wrenched him around, but I don't want to leave her."

"Go, Jacob. I'll stay here with her, and I'll call you if she needs anything. She seems like a strong girl, she'll be fine."

He really did need to go to Seth, he needed to help Seth, but this was so ridiculously _hard_.

Billy patted his arm, that stupid grin across his face again. "Son, _go_. I'll watch over her, and I'll call you the second she does anything at all."

_This_ was why he hadn't wanted to say anything, because everyone was having far too much fun with it. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, pops," Jake grumbled good-naturedly. "Just keep her away from lunatics with guns. And probably me too, I'm already blowing this."

His father had the audacity to laugh at him. Rolling his eyes, the La Push Alpha headed back out into the night. He had a Beta to fix.

* * *

><p>It must be a missile strike.<p>

When the horribly loud siren began blaring, waking Samantha up instantly, that was the first thing that came to her mind. As she bolted upright in one more strange bed, in a place she didn't recognize, Samantha instinctively rolled. If there was a missile strike, she was safer beneath the bed than on it. It wasn't until she was on the floor, trying to wedge herself beneath a bed too stuffed full with various things to fit beneath, that Samantha realized that the missile strike warning was coming from the room across the hall.

That, and that La Push was the last place on the West coast where there was something that needed missiles to destroy it. No, this was apparently the alarm clock that Samantha wasn't going to be able to sleep through. She was relatively certain that Jacob had understated its volume capabilities. _Grossly_.

There was a digital clock on the far wall, telling Samantha that it was six in the morning. Six in the morning meant that she had two hours before school started, and that she could probably get up and have plenty of time to get her things together and walk to school. Instead she remained as she was, listening to Billy Black scoot himself into his wheelchair, coughing loudly and generally making noises far more masculine than she was used to. Samantha had grown up in a home that was exclusively female. Her mother had never kept men over, and she'd never had male babysitters. She'd spent all of two nights at her father's house, and she had yet to get used to the sounds of him and his friends.

Now she would never get that chance. It probably shouldn't hurt, that knowledge, but it did.

Closing her eyes, Samantha rolled over in Jacob Black's bed. It didn't smell all that fresh…in fact she didn't want to think about how long it had been since he'd washed his sheets and blanket. But it didn't smell badly, per say. In fact, it smelled like he had: that pleasant masculine scent, only now mixed with mustiness and faintly of sweat. And the pillow was slightly different too, faintly of some sort of shampoo. She must have fallen asleep again, thinking about what Jacob's pillow smelled like, because when Samantha's eyes opened again, it was nearly an hour later and the scents of bacon and toast had overwhelmed everything else. Someone was knocking on her door, not very loudly but enough to have woken her.

"Samantha?" Billy's voice carried easily through the hollow wood composite door. "There's breakfast on the table, if you'd like something before school. It starts in an hour, but I can drive you, so you have plenty of time."

Instantly awake, Samantha pushed herself up into a sitting position. "Thank you," she said, words coming out raspier than normal. She cleared her throat, adding, "You don't have to drive me, but I'd like a shower if that's alright."

"There's a clean towel on the towel rack in the bathroom for you. The blue one," Billy told her. "I'll be on the porch if you need me."

Samantha murmured another thank you, listening to him wheel down the hall before rising to her feet. Her senses had already acknowledged the fact that Jacob wasn't there, although Samantha wasn't sure why she knew that. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn't hear him in the house, when she could hear Billy Black so well. Samantha could close her eyes, and just imagine him somewhere off in the direction of the front of the house, whichever direction that was. But she had more important things to think about, and wondering where Jacob Black was right now wasn't one of those things.

That gut wrenching, wanting to throw up from the stress of it, feeling of dread was back in her stomach. That feeling of not knowing what would happen now. Not knowing where she was, and not liking at all how unprepared she was for it.

The shower wasn't as bad as Jacob had told her, and Samantha felt better for having it. She didn't linger, though, because the lock on the bathroom door didn't work. As quickly as she could, Samantha dressed and repacked her bags. Breakfast was still on the kitchen table, the bacon and toast, along with a skillet of scrambled eggs set on warm on the stove. This time Jacob had gotten his descriptor dead on, because they were absolutely the best scrambled eggs she'd ever had.

Not sure what the rules were in this house, Samantha ate quickly at the table, then just as quickly washed and dried her dishes. It was the first full meal she'd had in the last week—she'd been unable to eat at the hospital, and food was in short supply at her father's house— and like the shower, Samantha felt better for having it too. Since no one else was there, and it was clear he had only cooked for two, instead of three, Samantha cleared the table and washed the dishes too. Billy was still on the front porch, reading a newspaper, when Samantha slipped outside.

"Thank you for the food," she said, to which Billy gave her a friendly smile.

"Morning's not the same without a good breakfast," Jacob's father told her, folding his newspaper. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Yes sir. I appreciate you letting me stay." Samantha adjusted her book bag on her shoulder. She hesitated, then asked softly, "Is it alright if I leave my things here until after school? I'm not sure the lockers will be big enough."

Billy gave her a kind look. "Of course you can, honey. Jacob said to tell you that one of us will pick you up at Embry's tonight, so don't worry about getting back on your own. I'll get the car warmed up and we can get you to school."

"That's not necessary," Samantha started to say, but his look cut her off.

"Samantha, I'm sure that you're capable of it, but it's a long walk into town and I was headed there anyways. Besides, you have to pass by your father's house on the way in. Jake had another run-in with Carter last night, and that's something that you don't need to be in the middle of."

Samantha felt her stomach twist again. "What happened? Is he okay?"

Billy set his newspaper on the small table next to his wheelchair. "Jacob can take care of himself."

Samantha's teeth gritted, and Billy glanced at her. "You meant your father." She could hear the disapproval in Billy Black's voice. "Joe Carter can take care of himself too. Jacob was checking on a friend who got injured last night, and Carter and Jennings went over there. They got pushy with Sue about finding out where you were, and the boys…discouraged them from that sort of behavior."

"Is everyone _okay_?" Samantha asked again, harsher this time, and Billy grunted. Samantha didn't need to know Billy to know he disapproved of her worry for her father, but honestly? She didn't give a rat's ass what Billy Black thought.

"Your father's fine, and so is Jacob. Joe'll be sore for a few days from Seth throwing him out, but that young man had every right to stand up for his mother. Besides...those two had no business bothering Sue at one in the morning."

Samantha couldn't help but ask softly, "Did Dad say why he wanted to find me?"

Maybe he wanted her back. Maybe he had just been drunk and had made a mistake. Maybe…

Billy cleared his throat. "He wanted the set of house keys he gave you, Samantha."

She could hear the unspoken 'and' in that sentence. "And he doesn't want me coming back in when he's gone, in case I steal something," Samantha added, staring at the woods beside the house with tired eyes.

Jacob's father didn't answer, but the look of pity he gave her was as telling as it was mortifying. Feeling humiliated and far more exhausted than she should, Samantha stood there silently, knowing that there wasn't a whole lot she could do about this. She had never been raised to hate Joe Carter, just to be careful of her father, and she had known that her mother had loved him until her dying day. Joe's name had been the name she had always remembered, even after she had forgotten Samantha's own. But Joe Carter had kicked her out, and Samantha had known it was too soon to ask him to let her come back. She just hadn't expected him to think she was a thief from the start. So she nodded and just as silently waited for Billy to get his car ready. She could handle this. She could, and she would.

The drive through the reservation two days ago had been difficult, but at least Samantha had felt prepared for what was ahead of her. This drive was far harder.

They passed by the dojo on the way to school, and Samantha glanced at the person unlocking the front door. She hadn't noticed the other day, but Embry Call was an extremely good looking man. Tall and strong, but with the leaner muscles of a martial artist, he was exactly what Samantha's type had always been. As if he could feel her eyes on him, Embry gave her a nice smile. Samantha gave him a half-hearted one of her own along with little wave, then turned her eyes to the houses lining the road, memorizing them all. She didn't like not knowing where she was, and she counted streets until they reached the school.

"I'm coming in with you," Billy told her, to which Samantha tried and failed to cover her discomfort.

"That's not necessary, sir. I have school set up already."

Billy gave her a smile. "Yes, but I have to make some arrangements for Jacob," he said, sounding smug. "I think my son's going to be around a little more than he used to be, and it's time he finished his education properly."

There was nothing Samantha could say to that, and after helping him get his wheelchair out of the back seat, she stood back and let Billy lead the way into the school.

It was small, far smaller than her Chicago school, but obviously not any better funded. Several tall, well-muscled young men were near the office, and as one they all gave her curious looks. Samantha met their eyes as she held the door for Billy, not allowing their collective sizes to intimidate her. Two of them were younger, the first with harsher features and the other extremely good-looking. The third was a little shorter, his body broader and stronger. The good-looking one gave her a warm, friendly smile, but Samantha was already looking down the hall at a loud group of students moving their way. The newcomers noticed her, one even saying "Hey new girl," but Samantha was already disappearing after Billy into the main office.

Billy was still in the office when Samantha was shown to her locker and sent to her classes, already late for the first one. Her teachers were nice enough not to make her introduce herself, and she was grateful to find that the last couple weeks of missing school hadn't put her too far behind. She stayed after both of her first classes, getting information about what she needed to review to catch up completely and avoiding the hallways full of students. Since it was her first day, she could get away with slipping into her classes a little late, especially when explaining why.

By lunchtime, Samantha was starting to feel a little bit better about things. Life outside of school was complicated, but at least she felt comfortable about what was happening inside of school. She needed her scholarship, and Samantha had been worried about what changing schools might do to her grades. Grabbing her state-supplied lunch sack, Samantha avoided the crowded lunchroom and headed outside. It had misted, so she kicked some of the water off of a mesh table near the basketball court.

She had eaten well that morning, and the peanut butter sandwich in her lap looked less than appetizing. Choosing instead to roll the apple around on her palm, Samantha's eyes shifted to the three guys playing basketball. Immediately the tallest one, the one that could have been a model, gave her another nice smile, and the broader one did the same. Samantha nodded distractedly, looking away and evaluating the other students. An unsettling number of them were watching her, and she didn't like the fact that she kept hearing the words "Carter", "drunk", "gun", and "Jacob Black." The last thing she'd wanted was for last night to become public knowledge, and Samantha felt her teeth grinding in response. Openly glaring at anyone who stared too long, Samantha took a hard bite of her apple.

"Hey," a pleasant baritone voice said, causing Samantha to look up. It was the broader of the three. "Looks like you're the talk of the town already."

"Seems like it," Samantha replied, somewhat cautiously. Sure he was smiling at her, but Samantha was more wary of the muscles along his strong form than she was taken in by the friendly tone. He was built like someone dangerous, and until she knew him better, she wasn't planning on forgetting it.

"It's hard being the new one, huh?" he said, offering her his hand. "I'm Quil."

He had a strange name, but it seemed familiar. Samantha took his hand, shaking it and noticing that his skin was hot to the touch.

"Samantha Carter." Quil. Quil Ateara. Samantha suddenly remembered where she had heard that name before. "You're Jacob's friend," Samantha said, to which Quil nodded, smiling wider.

"That's me. Jake, Embry, and I have been tight since we were little kids. Can I sit down?" Samantha nodded, scooting over on her table to make more room for him. Quil sat down on the bench instead of on the table, and Samantha relaxed a little. It was easier not having him towering over her. "So, how's your first day going so far?"

Samantha shrugged, giving him a half smile. "It's been fine," she replied, knowing she wasn't really telling him anything. She lifted her fruit and murmured, "They gave me an apple."

Quil chuckled at that, relaxing back against the tabletop and resting his elbow a few inches from her leg. "Emb says you're doing volunteer work over at his dojo. He's pretty stoked about having some extra help."

"Apparently I _am_ the talk of the town," Samantha murmured. Her eyes flickered to the guys playing basketball behind her. It looked like fun, and Samantha wasn't very hungry anyways. The good-looking one noticed her watching and gave her another bright smile, and the rougher featured gave her a smaller, shyer version of the same. "So, I'm assuming they're Jacob's friends too?"

Quil nodded, following her gaze and indicating with his hand who was who. "Yeah, that's Collin and Brady. Although we refer to them as Corndog and Dorkfish."

Samantha had just taken a drink, and she almost sprayed milk all over them both fighting down her laughter. Both teens looked varying degrees of offended, but Quil was grinning at her. Samantha snickered and finished her milk. "So, is it a boy's only game, or can the newbie in town join—?"

Her words died away midsentence. The voices were still talking, and when someone mentioned her father's name too loudly, followed by laughter, Samantha's eyes narrowed dangerously. She stood, deciding that she was done playing nice for the day. He was her only living family, no matter how he treated her, but a voice growling loudly from the basketball court behind Samantha stopped her.

"I think that certain people better start shutting the hell up, and mind their own damn business." It was Corndog, and he was glaring viciously over her shoulder. "What do you think, Brade?"

"I think that the next person that says the name Carter is getting my fist in their fucking face," Dorkfish retorted, catching the ball under his arm and turning a mean look their way.

Startled, Samantha twisted and looked at them. Quil didn't say anything, but he did rise to his feet and start cracking his knuckles. Loudly. Abruptly everything got really quiet.

"Well, that shut them up," Samantha murmured. She sighed and shook her head. "So much for making a good impression."

Quil just raised his hands for the basketball, which Brady passed immediately. He handed it to Samantha, indicating that she was welcome to play with them. Abandoning her lunch, Samantha took the ball and joined the younger two on the court. It had been a long time since she had played, and she took a moment to get used to dribbling again before trying a two point shot. It missed, but not by much, and when it bounced back towards her, Samantha passed the ball to the rougher featured one. He was glaring grumpily at Quil.

"Dude, _Dorkfish_? Why the hell am _I_ Dorkfish?"

Collin stole the ball from Brady and twisted, missing his own two-pointer. "Because you're a dork, Brade. While I, on the other hand, am a foot-long, intensely satisfying, carnival delight."

"Whatever."

The two started passing insults back and forth, something they obviously did a lot, and their voices began to blend into the background for Samantha. When Quil passed her the ball, she dribbled a few times, then went in for an easy layup. Brady rebounded and passed her the ball again, which she passed back to Quil. It started an unofficial game of two-on-two, in which Collin's inability to consistently make a basket nearly handicapped him and Brady as much as Samantha's rustiness in playing and short stature handicapped herself and Quil. But no one was out for blood, which initially made it more fun, although Quil kept finding ways of punching Collin in the head when he could. Brady was only making half-hearted attempts at guarding against her, concentrating more on trying to out-insult Collin. So far Collin was winning.

"You don't talk a whole lot, do you?" Brady asked after a few minutes, once more passing the ball to her as Samantha shrugged. It was clear they were catering to her, and Samantha frowned, passing it to back. Brady seemed amused by that and shot a three pointer, which Quil defended before it hit the hoop.

"Listen, if you _need_ to talk to anyone about last night, it's cool," Quil said kindly. "Jake gave us a heads up about what happened, and the last few days must have been a little rough."

"I thought we were minding our own business," Samantha murmured. Quil gave her a knowing look as he passed her the ball again, and she gritted her teeth.

Samantha turned her back to him as she dribbled, so only Brady could see the expression on her face when Collin added, "I mean, it's not your fault that your dad's a dick—."

"You know what I love?" Brady said suddenly, his voice harsher. "I love it when strangers butt into my fucking life, like they know shit about me."

That seemed to shut the other two up, and Samantha cast Brady a thankful look. They resumed playing, with Quil and Collin trading insults this time. Now that she was more warmed up, Samantha found herself playing better, and Brady had to put a little more effort into guarding against her. He was big, much broader than Samantha was, but every time she pushed into his personal space, Brady backed away. Using that to her advantage, she and Quil scored twice more to their once by the time the first lunch bell rang, indicating that there was five minutes until class started.

Samantha shot one last basket, although it bounced off the rim, and then trotted after the ball. Tucking it in the bag hanging off the concrete wall behind the hoop, Samantha turned and gave them a small but real smile. "Thanks for the game. And for the other stuff, too," she added in a quieter voice.

Funny, how her smile made them all seem to stand a little straighter and look pleased with themselves.

Quil hooked her book bag off the table and handed it to her, and Samantha wondered at the fact that it only slightly bothered her that he had touched her things. Feeling sweaty but not caring overly much, Samantha tucked her sandwich inside her bag and headed into the building. Exercise had always helped her find her calm, and the basketball game had been exactly what she had needed.

"Does anyone know where—" Samantha pulled her schedule out of her pocket, wrinkling her nose. "—room 113 is? I'm supposed to be in some sort of joint history class with the sophomores, but I couldn't find the room before lunch."

"Dude, I _hate_ that class," Brady groaned, and Collin sighed dramatically.

"You and me and everyone whose ever had to take it too. But yeah, that class is where we're heading. We'll show you where."

Quil was a senior, so Samantha was told, so he didn't have to suffer nearly as much as the rest of them did, but for some reason he walked with them all the way to class. Samantha didn't know why, but as long as she made it to class in time, she didn't mind. Plus it was nice that she sort of knew two of the people in this class. Of course, those two sat in the far back of the room while Samantha sat in the front, but when they were told to group up together, Samantha turned in her seat and looked askance at them. Immediately both uncurled from their seats with a gracefulness she wasn't used to, heading her way.

Working with Collin and Brady for the better part of half an hour on school stuff was more than enough time for Samantha to understand exactly why Quil called them Corndog and Dorkfish. Working with her for the better part of a half hour on school stuff had the pair ecstatic at their luck, especially after she gave up asking their input and just started answering things.

At first they provided a nice distraction, especially considering that the later the day got, the more stressed Samantha was becoming. Billy Black and Jacob Black had assured her that she could stay there as long as she needed, but Samantha wasn't dumb. She and Jacob had been flirting, and his interest in her had been for specific reasons. The more she thought about it, the more she grew uncomfortable with the idea of staying with him. Samantha had never been homeless before, and she wasn't oblivious to the fact that in living with them, she was living on charity.

She already owed Jacob Black, and nothing in life came for free.

By the end of the class, Samantha's expression was bleak, and she was so sick to her stomach that she was glad the peanut butter sandwich was still in her bag. Her entire life, since she had been old enough to understand what a foster home was, Samantha had been unreasonably terrified of being put in one. For years she had covered up the worst of her mother's illness, so that no one would force her into foster care. But Samantha knew that putting herself into a position where she had to be in a relationship with a boy she barely knew to have a place to sleep at night…well, that wasn't any better.

Maybe if she got a job, and showed that she could support herself, she could be emancipated? Maybe she should just go do what she should have done last night, stuffed down her pride and begged Joe to let her stay. Touching the necklace at her throat, Samantha stuffed down the nearly overwhelming sadness she felt and tried to answer the last question, ignoring the fact that she had never, ever needed her mother more.

"Okay, we're all good," Samantha murmured, signing her name to the assignment and looking up. She hadn't noticed them both fall silent, and she hadn't noticed that they were both watching her now. "What?"

Neither one said a word, but Collin did pull his now vibrating cell phone out. Keeping it tucked under his desk, he texted someone, then stuffed it back in his pocket. "So, you're going to Emb's after school?" he asked, voice a little deeper.

Samantha nodded, idly playing with her pencil. "Yeah. Some volunteer stuff. He seemed nice, and I was in martial arts back home."

"Are you good?" Brady asked curiously, and Samantha hummed non-committedly.

"I can hold my own."

He nodded, then grabbed up the paper, adding his and Collin's names and turning it in. Samantha stayed afterwards, talking with their teacher long enough that the bell had already rung before she left for her last class. It went quickly, mostly because she wanted it to stretch longer, and then school was done. Samantha lingered at her locker, fiddling with the lock, but there was only so much time she could kill. Not knowing what else to do, Samantha started walking to the dojo, hoping that Embry Call wouldn't find it strange that she was early.

It had started to mist lightly, and Samantha regretted not bringing a sweatshirt. Out here the weather kept changing on her. A male voice calling her name caught her attention. Samantha turned and saw Quil trotting her way.

"Hey Sam, are you headed to Embry's?" She nodded, and Quil fell into step with her. "Want some company?"

Samantha hesitated, and Quil seemed to understand why. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and gave her a smile. "I know I keep showing up uninvited today, but promise I won't hit on you. I was just headed to see Emb too, and I figured we could walk together. No worries if you'd rather be alone."

She shrugged, but nodded. "If you want to."

Samantha wasn't sure what to say, but Quil didn't seem to need conversation as they walked, and that was fine with her. Collin and Brady drove past in a new model Jeep, honking the horn multiple times as they did so. Quil flipped them off, but he kept that easy smile on his face, looking relaxed. Samantha had memorized the way to the dojo by the streets, but Quil cut across several empty lots, showing her the shorter way.

Embry Call was working with several adult men when Samantha followed Quil inside the building. He shot her a grin and gave Quil a relieved look. "I was going to put Samantha on Claire detail, but you're even better."

"Qwil!" A little girl on the desk let out an excited squeal and went running into Quil's arms.

He swept her up, spinning her around. "Hey there, Claire Bear."

"I thought you were running a shift," Embry said, to which Quil shook his head.

"Leah offered to take it. I thought I'd take Claire for some ice cream." Samantha watched the little girl's excitement go through the roof at that statement. Quil tried to introduce them, but Claire went on a massive explanation about why she and Quil were far better friends than the two girls in her preschool class were, and that they were silly for saying they were bestest fwiends ever. Of course Claire and Qwil were bestest fwiends ever, and that's why they were having ice cream.

Samantha couldn't help but smile at the little girl's logic. Child on his shoulders, Quil waved goodbye to Samantha and left as Embry was finishing instructing his students. When he was done, Embry came over, offering her another one of those sexy smiles. In another time, in another place in her life, it might have left her cheeks flushed. He really was very attractive. However, Samantha had other things to focus on, and if she was going to be honest with herself, someone else had already caught her eye.

Not that she had the time or the freedom to focus on that attractive man either, but that was another matter.

"So, what first?" Samantha asked, thinking that the glass mirrors could probably be cleaned, and then maybe the windows too.

However Embry Call just gave her a warm smile and pointed towards the mats. "First, Samantha Carter? First you show me what you've got."

* * *

><p>Showing Embry Call what she had was far more exhausting than Samantha would have expected. Not only did she not clean a single thing, Samantha spent far longer than she had planned at the dojo.<p>

In between classes, Embry had gone through her training from the ground up, asking her to demonstrate her skills one by one. When it was clear that she was in good enough shape to keep going, he started asking her for combinations and more difficult techniques. He must have been testing her endurance as well, because when that was over, he asked her to run through each kata that she knew and then asked her to perform them one after another. Embry never instructed her, simply evaluating her performance, but Samantha caught multiple frowns from him. However, when she was finally done, kneeling in front of him, sweaty and tired and feeling far better than she had after the basketball game, Embry gave her a pleased look.

"How long have you been in martial arts?" Embry asked, allowing her a chance to catch her breath.

"Three years, five months, and twelve days," Samantha panted, making him chuckle at her exactness.

"Well, we've got some work ahead of us, and it's obvious your training was from different instructors," Embry told her. "But you have good speed and balance, and a fast recovery. If you're willing to put the effort in, I think it won't take much to get you your black belt."

Samantha looked up at him, startled. "I was told that I was only just at brown belt level when I last trained."

"When was that?"

She hesitated, then pursed her lips as Embry walked over to his desk, flipping open a small notebook and making a few notes in it. He glanced at her, smiling kindly. "It's not a trick question, Sam," he promised.

"A couple months."

Embry nodded, then bent down, grabbing two bottles of water from beneath his desk. Walking back over to where she still knelt on the mat, he handed one to her and knelt himself, facing Samantha. "That's a big gap for someone who knows exactly how long she's trained. Any reason for the break?"

Samantha shrugged, glancing away as she drank her water. Embry raised an eyebrow, and Samantha instinctive felt the need to answer him. In this setting, Embry Call was in charge. He was the sensei at this dojo, and respect was due to him as such. Besides that, he was giving her an opportunity to combine her needed volunteer hours with something she loved, at the only dojo within walking distance in this area.

Embry Call was the last person in La Push she wanted to offend.

"I wanted to spend some time with my mother before I moved out here," she heard herself say. It was the truth, if not a very clear representation of the truth, and Samantha didn't want to start her association with Embry Call by lying to him. Her hand strayed to her necklace as she added more softly, "I don't have a lot of family, but what I do have has always been important to me."

It was embarrassing hearing herself say it out loud, considering she had just been kicked out by her father last night, and Samantha ducked her head. Based on what Quil had said at school, it was doubtful that Embry Call didn't know about what had happened.

It sucked that her personal life was set out for this town to see. First Billy, then school, now here. It made her angry and resentful, and made her want to start punching things. Hard. Instead she shoved that anger and resent down, forced them away, and added them to the mess of emotions that she planned on dealing with after she managed to get to college and out of La Push.

Samantha sat up straighter, squaring her shoulders, changing the subject. "So, I've been pretty much just having fun tonight. Did you want me to help do anything? Clean or something?"

He had been watching her, and if she didn't know better, Samantha would have thought that Embry's body had shifted closer to hers. When she met his eyes, Samantha was grateful to see them free of judgment, and he didn't press anymore.

"Cleaning is always good," Embry told her. "But honestly, what I need the most around here is someone to cover the place for me if I have to leave unexpectedly. Things come up a lot in my life, and I don't have anyone to take over classes for me if I need them to. The dojo is relatively new, and I only have a couple advanced students so far, none of whom I could call in for help. I'm willing to trade free training for a few more volunteer hours, if that's something you would be interested in."

Her 'yes' was almost off her tongue before reality kicked in.

"I still need to get a job," Samantha admitted. "But I'd love the opportunity. If you'd be willing to work around a future work schedule, my answer is a definite yes."

"School, community service hours, and a job?" Embry tilted his head at her. "Isn't that a little much?"

Samantha shrugged again, Embry raised his eyebrow again, and then she suddenly barked out a small laugh. "Is this a La Push thing? Because you guys seem to love your questions."

The handsome man chuckled, leaning back on his hands. "Small town charm, Sam. Everyone knows everyone's business."

"You know, I'm starting to figure that out," she murmured back, winking at him to show she wasn't mad about it. It was hard for her to be upset with Embry, not when she wanted to impress him. It had been a while since she'd felt that way about anyone, but she wanted Embry Call's approval.

Her wink brought a smile to his handsome face, and after Embry took a drink of his water, he returned those chocolate eyes her way.

"How about this," he said, sounding both relaxed and pleased. "Help me out with my afternoon classes Monday through Wednesday, to get your volunteer hours in, and train with me as much as you can spare in the mornings. That's a slow time for me, and it'll free up your weekends to work if you need to. Jobs are pretty scarce around here, so there might not be much until summer, but if I have to call you in to cover the dojo for me, I'll pay you for it. Does that sound okay?"

It sounded great, actually. So much so that Samantha felt overwhelmed by the feeling of _something_ going right. Good things seemed to keep happening to her in Embry Call's dojo, and as they both stood, Samantha felt an equally overwhelming desire to hug him. Instead she bowed respectfully.

"Arigatou gozaimasu, sensei," Samantha murmured. "This means a lot to me, and I'm not going to let you down."

"Dou itashimashite, Samantha," Embry replied, voice gentle and kind. "It's hard to quit training when you're used to it. It's hard on your body, but it's even harder on your spirit. I want you to know that as my student, you're always welcome here."

This time she almost did hug him, but stopped herself even as she unconsciously moved his way. Knowing she was standing closer to Embry than she should, Samantha shifted backwards, but his hand lightly touching her elbow stopped her. Embry's face had changed to one of slight disapproval.

"I do have one rule that you're going to have to follow if you train here, Sam. With most students, I have to instill the idea of not using what they've learned unless absolutely necessary. With you, I think the opposite may be true."

Samantha tilted her head, and Embry gave her a firm look. "The next time you're in the position to disarm someone holding a gun on you, Samantha Carter, for your own protection _do it_. Even if you're worried about hurting or upsetting that person in the process, you need to do it."

It was like Embry could see right through her. That and he'd asked her to show him everything she knew, and weapon disarming techniques had been on that list.

"Busted," Samantha murmured, to which Embry nodded.

"From what you showed me today, there's no reason for last night having escalated as much as it did. You could have disarmed Carter easily."

Samantha knew, and she knew what Embry wasn't saying. If she had been willing to use her training against her father more quickly, then she wouldn't have put herself and Jacob at risk. Sighing, Samantha gave Embry a tired attempt at a smile. "I just wanted to get along with him. I know he's not a great guy, but Dad's all I had. Even if your family sucks, you have to hold on to what you've got, you know? Besides, without him I may end up sleeping in the woods. "

He looked at her, eyes softening. Resting a hand on her shoulder, Embry said gently, "I understand more than you realize, sweetheart."

They were quiet for a drawn out and somewhat awkward moment, and then Embry seemed to shake himself. "Sam, La Push hasn't been so great to you so far, but it's going to get better," he added, stepping back and giving her some space.

Samantha couldn't help smile a little at that. "It hasn't been too bad," she murmured playfully. "I met a corndog and a dorkfish today."

He barked out a laugh, heading back to his desk, with Samantha trailing behind. "Oh, and I can absolutely _promise_ you that you will never, _ever_ end up sleeping in the woods, unless it involves s'mores and tents and campfires."

"See? Moving someplace new has all sorts of exciting adventure prospects. I've never camped before…at least, not outside of my bedroom."

Talking with Embry was easy, especially as the topic turned into stories about him and his friends out in the woods as little kids, and their varying adventures. They straightened up as they talked, and when Embry settled in to finish some paperwork, Samantha started glancing out the window. It was past dark, and she wasn't sure she knew the way back to the Black family home.

"Sensei? Do you think you could draw me a map to Jacob's house? My stuff is still there, and I've been promised spaghetti."

Embry looked up and grinned. "Sensei works in front of the other students, but you can call me Embry, Sam. And I _could_ draw you a map, but I won't. It would ruin the dramatic effect he's going for."

"What dramatic effect that who's going for?"

"You'll see, and you might want to give up the dreams of pasta for tonight. I'm almost done here, and he's going to kick my ass if I take any longer. Let's call it a night."

Samantha waited as Embry grabbed his keys and turned out the lights, then followed him out the front door. Someone was waiting for her when she stepped out of the dojo. This time Jacob Black had made sure to bring his leather jacket, although it was draped over the back of the Harley. For the first time that day, a full, real smile split Samantha's face as he patted the helmet sitting on top of the jacket.

"Want to try this again, Samantha Carter?" Jacob asked, winking at her as Samantha came down the steps. "I came better prepared."

"I don't know Jacob Black. You still seem pretty high maintenance to me. Most guys I hang out with don't require Kevlar."

He barked out a laugh and tossed her the helmet. "Hey Emb, do me a favor and get someone to cover for me tonight. I've got a hot date."

"Who says this is a date?" Samantha murmured playfully. "All I see is another fast getaway."

"Yeah, yeah," Jacob chuckled sexily. "But unlike last time, this fast getaway has milkshakes and cheeseburgers at the end of it."

Samantha winked at him. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Reaching the bottom of the steps, where he was at, Samantha walked straight to Jacob. In the hours since she'd last seen him, Samantha had forgotten just how tall this guy was, how heavy his shoulders, how long his legs. The desire to reach out and touch him was strong enough that she only barely resisted her own instincts, stepping right up to him. They were so close that she could have twitched her pinkie finger and brushed his jeans, and Samantha had to lift her chin to meet his eyes.

Eyes that swept over her face, handsome features that softened when she smiled shyly and said, "Hey, Jacob."

"Hey you," he rumbled back, a smile coming to his own face.

Jacob somehow managed to shift closer to her and still not touch her. This near to him, she could feel the heat coming from his form, and Samantha took a deep breath. The stress of the day seemed to melt away, still curling through her belly but not tensing her muscles anymore. It was like they were determined to stare at each other every single time they saw each other. Samantha knew that she was being rude in ignoring Embry, and she knew that she should turn around and thank him again for the opportunity to volunteer at his dojo, but all she could see was Jacob Black.

It was too bad that she was going to have to turn him down.

"Thank you for the invitation, Jacob, but I can't go," Samantha said, trying to soften her rejection by giving him a disappointed quirk of her lips. "I need to save my money until I find a job. But as soon as that changes, I'd love to."

Jacob's eyes finally flickered away from hers, over her head, towards Embry. "Hey Emb, do guys make their dates pay for their own meals in Chicago?" he asked, but by his teasing tone, Samantha was pretty sure the statement was for her, not Embry.

The man behind her chuckled, keys rattling as he locked up the dojo. "How should I know? I've never been anywhere but here. Samantha, would you be willing to listen to some advice?"

"Depends on the advice," Samantha hummed, glancing over her shoulder at Embry and wondering why he looked so damn pleased right now.

"Jake hasn't been on a date since he was sixteen, so I can _promise_ you that he doesn't say that to all the girls." Jacob made a horrified sound in his throat that left Embry smirking victoriously as he continued. "Let the guy take you out to dinner, so he doesn't have to wait another three years to find someone else he wants to ask."

"_Dude_. Cut off my balls, why don't you?"

"Come on, Jake. You show up looking like you just came from a biker bar, and you expect the girl to just hop on for a ride? You've gotten too used to only being around Leah. A little emasculation is better than Sam pulling some pepper spray on you for being the creepy, scary old man that wants to take her somewhere."

"_Old_?"

Samantha couldn't help from grinning at the dismayed expression on Jacob's face, but she did waggle her finger at Embry. "Be nice, _Mr_. Call. My mother set me a three year dating range of acceptableness before I turned twenty-one, so Jacob's firmly in the 'dateable' category. Besides, it takes more than Handsome here on his motorcycle to scare me."

He must have liked that because Jacob grinned smugly at Embry and offered her his leather jacket. Samantha took it, surprised at the heaviness.

"Are you sure? I worked out tonight and I smell all nasty," Samantha warned him, holding the jacket but not putting it on. A thin layer of sweat was still on her skin, and already the cool night air was chilling her.

"You smell so fucking good it's disturbing," Jacob replied under his breath as he settled astride the bike, then seemed to realize that both Samantha and Embry had heard him. He flushed slightly at that, and Embry started laughing again. Samantha stepped in between Embry and Jake, breaking Embry's line of sight.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Embry," Samantha said, nodding at him as she put on Jacob's jacket. Instantly, the scent of the other young man filled her nostrils, enveloping her. If Samantha smelled so good it was disturbing, then Jacob Black blew her out of the water. Sighing, Samantha tugged the huge jacket around her more tightly.

Embry was grinning openly now. "You just lost your jacket, Jake," Embry warned him, and Jacob grinned when Samantha added the motorcycle helmet. Between the two items, she was covered all the way to her knees.

"Umm, do I look as stupid as I think I do?"

His amusement was tangible, even though Jacob didn't laugh at her. "Come on, karate girl. Let's get out of here."

It was a long ride, all the way to the next town over, but Samantha was toasty warm in Jacob's jacket. It was difficult to talk much over the rumble of the engine and the heaviness of the helmet, but Samantha was content just riding behind him quietly. She had started off gripping the seat beneath her, but somewhere just outside La Push, he reached behind him and found her hand. Jacob tugged her wrist lightly, and Samantha couldn't help the stupid grin that crossed her face as she let him guide her arm around his waist.

Before when she had held on to him, it had been because Jacob had been driving so fast, and at that time she had been focused on other things. This time Samantha noticed that the stomach beneath her arm wasn't just hard…it was like hugging steel. Jacob's t-shirt was worn to softness, and she could feel the ridges where his abdominal muscles cut. Mildly impressed, Samantha resisted the urge to trace those ridges, just to see how many of them he had.

The town of Forks was far larger than La Push, but still tiny compared to Chicago, and it felt strange driving through the town. Jacob obviously knew where he was going, because he turned down several smaller streets, a shortcut that led them behind a modest diner. The rumble of the Harley's engine drew eyes through the diner's windows, but not nearly as much as Jacob did.

Samantha could understand why. Jacob was easily the largest person she had ever been around, and she could see how he would make people nervous. But his was the first smile she had been given in her new life, the first physical contact, the first to hold her hand. His was the reassuring presence that had stayed until she had finished silently crying herself to sleep.

Out of everyone she had met out here, Samantha trusted Jacob Black the most.

As he held the door for her, Samantha smiled up at him, letting her fingertips brush his wrist, tugging it off the door handle. Jacob grinned down at her, letting her draw _his_ arm around _her_ waist this time. Samantha had never thought of herself as little, but the hand on her stomach was large enough to span her entire abdomen. There weren't ridges for his fingers to trace, but Jacob's thumb did rub a small circle above her navel as he stood close behind her, the pair of them waiting to be seated.

Samantha wasn't used to public displays of affection, especially not this quickly with someone, but when Jacob's hand slid to her waist beneath the leather jacket, his arm snug across her stomach, Samantha allowed herself to shift closer to his larger form. The hostess approached, giving them a sweet smile, and Jacob's arm tightened in a brief, small hug before he released her, following Samantha as the hostess showed them to a small booth in the back corner. Asking for the table next to it was instinctive. There was no way Jacob's long limbs would fit comfortably, and this way they'd be able to keep an eye on the restaurant and his bike outside.

Not that Samantha figured anyone would try to steal it from him, but still…she had learned to protect her things, and she didn't mind extending that care to his things as well.

As she picked up the menu, Samantha remembered that she hadn't eaten much for lunch, and combined with the extended workout, she was famished. "So, what's good here?" she asked, scanning the menu items hopefully. She and her mother had never had much spare cash, especially considering Samantha hadn't been allowed to work because of school, so going out to a restaurant had never stopped being a treat.

Jacob must have been able to tell she was pleased, because he was smiling at her. "The breakfast is good, the burgers are better. If you don't get a milkshake, you're crazy."

Samantha hummed non-committedly. Deciding to trust her date's experience on the matter, Samantha ordered a cheeseburger, and then blinked in surprise when Jacob ordered four. He doubled her strawberry shake with two chocolate ones of his own. She was tempted to tease him, but Samantha was enjoying herself and decided to smile at Jacob instead.

"So, besides driving around and ordering massive quantities of food that you will probably throw up, what exactly is it that you do, Jacob Black?"

Jacob chuckled, leaning back on the booth comfortably, his attention completely on her. "That is a long and potentially complicated answer, Samantha Carter, one that I would love to not have to answer tonight."

Samantha eyed him across the table speculatively. She knew that he didn't want to answer her question, but her gut told he would if she pressed. So instead, Samantha looked out the window, checking on his bike. A tall, muscular bald man had stopped near the Harley, checking it out, and Samantha's eyes narrowed. She tapped her finger on the glass window to get the man's attention, then shook her head. When he arched an eyebrow at her, Samantha flicked the glass pointedly then used her two fingers to pantomime someone walking. The bald man rolled his eyes but did as she said, moving away. When Samantha turned back to Jacob, he was grinning at her broadly.

"What?"

Jacob chuckled, shaking his head slightly as the waitress brought them each their milkshakes. "Nothing. It's just…I didn't expect you." He reached over and tugged her oversized sleeve. "And I really didn't expect you to look so good in my clothes."

Samantha flushed at the compliment, but he had her smiling again, that stupid smile that probably made her look like an idiot. "I can be very surprising," she said playfully, taking a sip of her milkshake. It was exactly as good as he had said it would be, and Samantha sighed contentedly. Silence fell between them, and Samantha glanced out the window again, watching a couple pass Jacob's bike.

"No one's going to steal it," Jacob promised Samantha, winking at her as he munched on the cherry that previously topped his shake. "Which part of Chicago are you from?"

"The part where bikes get stolen," she replied, finally looking away when the couple moved. "Englewood."

The massive man frowned. "Isn't that a really ugly area?"

"Yeah, but we always stayed around because it had a good personality," Samantha quipped, leaning forward and plucking her cherry from her shake. "There's something I want from you, Jacob Black, and I'm willing to offer this cherry in trade."

"I'm listening," Jacob chuckled sexily.

Samantha dangled the cherry between her thumb and forefinger. "Beforehand, I want to inform you that the cherry is the best part, and I normally save them for last. In fact, I have been known to expend extra effort in the procurement of them, and this is the first time I have willingly been on this side of a cherry exchange."

"Duly noted," he nodded. "The cherry is of significant value."

"To me, at least," Samantha said. "But how about to you?"

Jacob winked at her, stretching his arms comfortably along the back on the booth. "If I hadn't eaten my cherry first, you wouldn't have noticed that it was a bargaining chip when it came to me."

Samantha nodded at him. "Exactly. So the trade is this: you get the cherry, if I get to use your cell phone to make a long distance call. The duration of the call will be no longer than five minutes, and no one will call your phone trying to get ahold of me afterwards. Acceptable terms?"

The massive man leaned forward on his elbows, a considering expression on his face. "Counter offer. I get the cherry and a third of your milkshake."

"Nope, strawberry is far superior to chocolate. That's an uneven match. One sip, nothing more."

"Hmm, I think you're wrong, karate girl. Chocolate can kick strawberry's ass from here to Sunday, so I'd actually be helping you out by taking it off your hands. One fourth of the shake."

"Two sips, the cherry, and you can have the whipped cream."

Jacob grinned at her cheekily. "You don't even like the whipped cream. You've been scraping it off your straw. Four sips."

Samantha smiled smugly at him in return. "True, but you ate yours after the cherry, but before the shake. Three sips, and no gulps."

"Deal."

They shook on it, her hand disappearing inside his much larger one, then Jacob handed her his phone. Deciding that she wouldn't disrupt anyone too much, and that Jacob was eyeing her shake far too enthusiastically, Samantha pulled a slip of paper from her pocket, unfolding it and making the call right there at the table.

"Hi, this is Samantha Carter. I just wanted to let the scholarship committee know that there were some problems with my new home address, and that I needed to change the phone number and mailing address to my school for any future correspondence." She read off the school's address, adding an apology for inconveniencing them.

Ending the call, Samantha felt better and handed Jacob back his phone. Pleased to have one less thing to worry about, she took back her now whipped cream and cherry-free shake. Jacob didn't ask about her call, which she appreciated, instead choosing to ask her about school and volunteering at Embry's dojo. Samantha glossed over school, although she did mention that his friends had been nice to her, just like he had promised. Afterwards she cheerfully described her workout at the dojo with probably far too _much_ enthusiasm for someone who didn't train, but beside teasing her about being a Midwestern ninja, Jacob didn't seem bored at all. He was obviously close with Embry Call, and when he told Samantha about Embry's hard work in starting the dojo, Jacob sounded proud of the other man. They played thumb-war, which Samantha won by cheating shamelessly, and she teased him about being scrawny, just because it was fun to watch him flash that white-toothed smile at her.

Their food arrived shortly afterwards. He ate all four cheeseburgers and his second shake, and despite all of her teasing Jacob never looked at all like he was going to hurl on her. Samantha ate more slowly, enjoying her meal and feeling grateful to have it. Small pleasures were all too rare these days, and she wanted to take what she could get. It would have been easy to eat the whole plate of fries, and the entire burger, but Samantha carefully portioned half.

"Do you think your dad will care if I take these back to your home?" she asked him, holding up a fry.

"He won't care, but I might. It kind of depends."

Samantha looked up at Jacob, somewhat surprised, but Jacob continued eating, just as relaxed. "Sam, you're still hungry," he replied after he swallowed, tapping her plate pointedly with on large finger. "I'm really good at reading body language, and you were starved from the moment you walked out of Emb's tonight. I wouldn't care if you took these home and left them on Billy's head all night, or stuffed them under the couch cushions because you felt like it. But you don't need to stockpile food."

He didn't say it in a condescending way, just calm and to the point. But he was watching her now, probably because Samantha had felt heat flush through her body. For a moment, Samantha was pissed. Really _really_ pissed. If she wanted to save half of her food, it was up to her, and no one was going to tell her otherwise. Yeah, she might trust Jacob Black more than anything else in this town, but if he thought for one _second_ that he could tell her what to do—

"I thought this was going too well," Jacob chuckled, sounding amused as he reached over and stole one of her fries. "The face-slapping, scrunchy nosed, 'I'm going to stuff his balls down his throat' thing is more the usual with me."

Samantha didn't reply, trying to hold her temper in restraint. She didn't want to be angry with Jacob Black, not when she knew this for what it was: concern. He was concerned for her, and that was what made her anger die away. It was followed by sadness, a deep sadness that had her heart twisting in her chest, and her stomach dropping to her toes.

He didn't seem to mind her being angry, not at all, but when Samantha turned her face back to the window, her eyes unfocused as she watched a light rain start to fall, Jacob stopped chuckling. Instead he made a soft noise in his throat, one that almost sounded appeasing. "Oh hey. Honey, I didn't mean—"

"It's okay, Jacob," Samantha replied, turning back to him and squaring her shoulders, forcing a small smile back to her face. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You're right, it's stockpiling, and it's a habit I got into a long time ago. Mom and I used to split our meals in half when we went out, that way we could pretend we were out again the next night. We'd dress the kitchen up like the restaurant, and pretend to talk to the waiters and waitresses. It probably sounds silly, but we always had a lot of fun. But I am hungry, and fries are always better the first time around, instead of being reheated."

The handsome man watched her, holding her gaze.

"My mom died a few years ago," Jacob said eventually, his voice a low rumble. "I could write you a list of things Dad and I still do because it was what she liked or what she wanted. When we do that stuff, the stuff she liked, it reminds us of her. Even though she's gone, she's not really gone, not when we pick up the wet towels in the bathroom, or burn pumpkin candles in the kitchen. If you want to split your meals in half because you miss your mom, I'm the last person that's going to give you shit about it. I just didn't like the idea that you might go hungry tonight because you were worried you wouldn't have food tomorrow."

"It's okay, Jacob," Samantha repeated, reaching over and patting his hand, smiling with less effort this time. "Honestly, it's nice of you to care in the first place."

He seemed like he wanted to say something right then and there, but the waitress returned to check if they were okay. They were, and after Samantha asked for a glass of water, they continued eating in silence. However, it was clear to Samantha that they were both thinking the same thing.

Finally, mid-slurp, Jacob leaned forward on his elbows. "Okay, my dad spent the day on the phone with Charlie, the police Chief in Forks, and he wanted me to talk to you about all of this. You've got a couple options here. One, you can stay with me and Billy. The twins moved out a while back, so there's room." Samantha didn't immediately answer, and he smiled ruefully, adding, "But you don't want that."

Samantha set her milkshake down, pursing her lips. "You've been really nice to me, Jacob, but—"

"Jake." Jacob tapped her thumb with his pointer finger lightly. "My friends call me Jake, Sam."

"Are we friends already?" she asked, although her strained attempt at teasing fell flat, given the seriousness of the discussion.

"I'd like to be." He pressed the end of his large thumb to the end of her smaller one. Jacob took a deep breath, then seemed to steel himself for what he was about to say. "Listen, Sam. This is probably going kind of stalkerish, but you officially have my attention. Two days ago, I saw a girl for the first time that I thought was really pretty and who I wanted to talk to again. Then she turned around, walked out of the room, and had such a killer ass that I _knew_ that I was going to talk to her again."

She blinked at that and then suddenly laughed. "Not stalkerish, just…determined," Samantha told him.

"Yesterday, I should have known better than to go bother this girl at her home, because I knew that her daddy doesn't like me very much. But again, I _was_ going to talk to this girl, the pretty one with the killer ass, even if it was only long enough for her to tell me to go bother someone else."

Jacob gazed down at her seriously. "Sam, you aren't the first girl whose father didn't want me around, and believe it or not, you aren't the first girl whose father threatened me with a gun to try and run me off. But you _are_ the first girl who stood between me and a gun, to try and protect me. Even though I didn't know you, and you didn't know me, you still did."

"You did too," Samantha mumbled unhappily, looking down at her plate. "You scared the shit out of me, Jake."

The massive man leaned forwards, the action catching her eye. "Honey? I've never been that angry in my whole life." He let that hang between them before clearing his throat. "So now you know me a little. You know that I think you're pretty, and that I like your ass, and that I'm willing to piss off people if it means talking to you. You know that I can eat four burgers without barfing on you, and that I firmly believe that chocolate will always beat strawberry. _Always_."

Samantha hummed, then she winked at him. "So you know me now a little too. You know that I think you're a little scrawny, but I'm okay with that, because you're such a nice guy. You also know that you're wrong about chocolate, but that _I'm_ far too nice to point it out to you."

Jacob grinned ruefully, shaking his head. "That's all you're giving me, huh?"

She bit her lower lip, wondering if it was going to come back to bite her if she opened up a little more than that. "You know that I think you're handsome and that I think you're sweet. You make me smile, even when I'm not ready to smile. And…" Samantha trailed off, glancing back out the window. It was raining harder now, heavy drops that made a low, thrumming noise on the roof of the diner. "And it would be so easy to just hide in your house for a while, because you're the least scary thing happening to me right now."

"Samantha?" Jacob rumbled, regaining her attention before glancing down at their fingers touching. "You and me? Right now we're glued at the finger. Maybe one day we'll be glued at the hand, or the hip, or some other part. But right now, we're starting small. We're glued at the finger, and I'm paying attention, meaning you're _not_ alone. If you've got my finger, I'm going to notice what's happening to you."

It was sweet, and she could tell he felt stupid saying it, but Jacob—no, _Jake_—kept his thumb against hers.

"You know, back in Chicago, holding thumbs was the way the cool kids held hands," Samantha murmured as she linked her thumb onto his. "More discreet, but far more badass."

Jake smiled at that and curled his thumb so that they hooked together more firmly. "So, I've been really nice to you, _but_?"

Samantha sighed, leaning back in her seat, her free hand falling to her lap. "I'm sorry for how this is going to come out, because I really don't want to offend you, Jake. You've been the best thing in this town. But I don't know you, and I don't know how much of the offer is coming from a motivation that I'm not sure I can commit to with you. I need to be able to focus on school and getting through the next year and a half successfully, without worrying about if I'm losing my place to live because…"

She drifted off, not willing to say it out loud. He seemed to get her point, and Jake was frowning a little. "Honey, if you're saying you think I'd kick you out for not sleeping with me, then you _really_ don't know me at all."

Silence fell between them, and Samantha felt that stress curling through her belly again. She didn't like that she had upset him, but Jake was right. She didn't know him, no matter how drawn she was to him.

Samantha looked up when he tugged on her thumb. The frown had smoothed from Jake's face, and now he was leaning forward, possibly to compensate for her leaning away. "I do understand why you would worry about that, and I won't push. So living with myself and Billy is out for right now."

She nodded, and Jake continued. "The second option is living with the Clearwater's. Sue offered to take you in for as long as you needed. She and your mother were cousins, so they're kind of extended family for you. You'll have Leah and Seth to keep you company."

"The Clearwater's live just down the street from my father," Samantha said quietly.

"Yeah. That part will suck, and to be honest, I'd rather you stay with me and Billy instead of that. Your dad gave Sue a pretty good scare last night, and Seth's ready to kill him."

Samantha tried not to let how much that comment bothered her show on her face, murmuring, "And the third option?"

Jacob sighed, squeezing her hand. "The third option is we call Charlie back and let him know that you're going into foster care. Billy and Charlie worked it out today that you can stay on the rez, or go to Forks. In Forks, you'll have to live in the state's custody until a suitable place is found, and you won't have to deal with being around people who know your dad and or judge you for that. Charlie said that beyond contacting the proper channels and helping relocate you, he's not in control of where you get placed. They screen people, but it'll be out of our hands."

This time Samantha couldn't keep from letting the stress in her stomach tighten her shoulders. She started to pull her hand away from Jake's, but he caught her fingers in his deftly, "Hold on. They also worked it out that you could stay in La Push, in foster care here instead. If you stay on the rez, there's less legal tape. As long as the family is a married couple in good standing with the community, and the Council agrees to the placement, they can be foster parents. It's going to be more complicated, because your father's going to have to deal with some legal ramifications of all of this. The rez is small, and you're going to run into him. I know people were running their mouths at school today, and it'll get worse before it gets better. I _can_ say that you'll have other people around you that will happily shut up anyone who gives you hell about it."

Samantha hadn't even thought about the fact that her father might get in trouble for this. Tears threatened to well up in her eyes, and she gripped Jake's hand. "If I stay with you, then the authorities won't need to respond to this, right?"

"I spent most of today in the Fork's police station, arguing why Charlie _shouldn't_ charge your dad with child endangerment for shooting at us last night," Jake growled lightly. "I'm still pissed off about that, but I was pretty sure that it was only going to upset you more. Getting slapped with misdemeanor child neglect is the least that asshole deserves."

At her pained, withdrawn silence, Jake ran his thumb along the back of her hand. "Samantha, I _know_ this sucks for you. But if you can trust me, Billy and I can make sure that wherever you go on the rez won't be bad. And if you hate it, all you have to do is walk right back to my place. You have a place with us, whenever you need it."

"Okay," she finally whispered.

Jake tilted his head, trying to catch her eye. "Okay to foster care on the rez?"

The brunette nodded, trying to hide the fact that she was barely holding back her tears by staring out the window and sipping what was left of her milkshake. Foster care. It shouldn't be this scary, but for some reason, it felt like Samantha was walking into a living nightmare. A living nightmare full of the unknown. Wrapping her arms around her waist, Samantha slid down in her seat a little, letting the huge leather jacket envelope her in its comforting scent.

She didn't say much for the rest of the night, not that Jake tried to get her to. Instead he paid for their meal and drove them back to Forks. The rain didn't touch her through the jacket and the helmet. She remembered to say thank you for the dinner and the ride before slipping into the bathroom for a shower. At Jake's insistence, Samantha laid down that night in his bed, pretending to sleep and instead listening to Billy Black talking on the phone with a stranger, knowing that Jacob Black was leaning against the counter and overseeing the two men deciding her fate.

This time Samantha Carter didn't let anyone hear her crying. It was better that way.


	3. Chapter 2

**The Imprinted Chronicles (AU)**

Chapter Two

No one wanted her.

It took Samantha a few days to realize it. She had woken up the morning after her and Jake's discussion at the diner, ready to be packed into a car and driven to her new foster home. Instead Billy drove her to school again, while an exhausted looking Jake snored loudly on the couch, just like he did the next day, and the day after.

So Samantha sat through her classes and she tried to focus despite her focus being shot these days. She watched Collin and Brady snore much more discreetly while Samantha worked on their daily group assignments. She scraped the peanut butter off of her state provided sandwiches with chunks of her state provided apples, wondering if La Push was aware that they were the only school in the country still serving something so allergenic. She ate lunch with three guys, played basketball with the same three guys, and helped the oldest of those three guys with his homework when Quil gave her a panicked look right before his math class.

The call to the school office never came, that dreaded moment when she would be told where she was moving. Instead there was silence, and in that silence a heaviness that spoke volumes.

She went past her father's house every day after school, his keys in hand, but he was never around. Samantha knew he wanted the keys back, but the last thing she was going to do was leave them in the mailbox or under a rock. If anyone took the keys without her knowledge, it was Samantha who would bear the blame. So every day she would knock on her father's door and wait on his dilapidated porch, wondering how she went from cringing at this place to desperately wanting back in.

Funny how in a few short days, Joe Carter's dirty, broken home had become something she wanted so badly.

But Joe never opened the door, and Samantha knew better than to let herself in without his presence. So she would wait too long before finally leaving another note between the bent screen door and the locked wooden one. Letting him know she had tried to find him. She'd come tomorrow after school, if he wanted to get his keys. The notes always disappeared by the next day, but her father was just as absent as he'd always been in her life. And when it was clear that today was not the day that she fixed things with her father, Samantha would take refuge in the place she liked the best here in La Push.

Embry Call would always be waiting on the steps in front of his dojo, two bottles of water next to his hip and an easy smile on his face. Billy had objected to her working out so early in the morning, something to do with spreading herself too thin, and Samantha was too dependent on the tribal chief's hospitality to object. So she had asked Embry if she could come by earlier in the afternoons, and he had agreed.

They would drink their waters and Embry would ask her about her day as if it mattered to him. Samantha would gloss over her worries—like if her dad was going to be pissed she hadn't returned his keys yet, and would her foster family keep her from training, any especially how badly she missed her mother. Instead Samantha would talk about peanut butter sandwiches killing kids everywhere but La Push, and Embry would give her warm, amused looks when she bumped her shoulder into his. Then they would go into the dojo and he would make the rest of the world disappear into so much white noise. Static that didn't matter, not when she was sweating and focused and lost in this smaller, better world.

It was too soon to have formed a pattern, but there was something comforting in at least trying to find a routine.

Just like the previous evenings, Jake picked Samantha up after she was done at the dojo. Each time he had taken her for a drive before taking her back home. Milkshakes at diners gave way to homework and whatever Billy decided to cook that evening. Thus far it had been spaghetti (and there had definitely been garlic bread), burgers, and more burgers.

Samantha had learned quickly that the Black men preferred their red meat. As she took a shower that evening, letting the heated water draw soreness from her tired limbs, Samantha thought that she was going to have to figure out how to do the same. So far there wasn't a hint of whether or not a suitable foster family had been found for her. Samantha had only asked once, and she had regretted it ever since.

According to Billy Black, Samantha's mother had specifically stated in her will that Samantha was to go to a foster home with a couple that was married. The Council hadn't had the time to find a suitable match. The sympathy in Billy's eyes had been humiliating, and Samantha knew what the tribal chief wasn't saying. She was Joe Carter's daughter, and her mother had warned Samantha that the Carter family had a reputation in this town.

No one wanted her, but as Samantha put on some clean clothes, she decided that she wouldn't worry about that right now. It was a Friday night, but she'd trained longer that evening. So long that she'd worried about missing her ride, but when they were done, Jake had been waiting for her. He'd looked like he hadn't slept in the week she'd been stealing his bed. Samantha was pretty sure he didn't even know it was Friday, based on his huge yawn and his question about if she had any homework.

Technically Samantha did, but it wasn't due until Monday.

Jake had started making loud clunking noises in the kitchen while she dressed. By the time she was done, Samantha had expected Billy to be home, but Jake was still the only one with her in the house.

"No Billy?" Samantha asked, padding barefoot into the kitchen.

"Billy's got a meeting tonight in Forks," Jake said, giving her a tired smile. "He won't be back until late."

The way he said it was relaxed, but Samantha had the feeling that Jake was tenser then he was showing. Still, it wasn't her place to comment, so instead she settled down at the kitchen table, listening to the worn wooden chair squeak beneath her as she did.

"So you're cooking?"

She craned her head to see what he was making, and Jake tilted the pan her way. Hamburgers again. He must have dropped at least half a stick of butter into the skillet before adding the meat to it, and Samantha inwardly cringed. The amount of grease he was cooking the burgers in would destroy any benefit her working out would have, but Samantha also knew that she wasn't in any position to complain. She was living on the Black's generosity, and until she had a job and her own money, she was determined to be grateful for anything she was given.

At least she wasn't going to go hungry tonight. The better half of a frying cow was proof of that.

"Do you need any help?"

The massive man glanced over at her and winked. "Naw, you can relax, do whatever it is you do. Besides, it's your turn to cook tomorrow."

Samantha smiled at that and wondered if she should leave him alone. But Jake began humming along to the song that was playing on the radio, and Samantha decided that he seemed perfectly content having her there in the kitchen, even without her helping. At a loss as to what else to do, Samantha pulled out her textbooks and began working on her homework.

For such a large person, Jacob Black could be deceptively quiet when he wanted to be. Quickly lost in her work, Samantha only noticed that Jake was done cooking when she saw that a plate had been placed near her on the table, along with a cold bottle of old-fashioned root beer and a container of ketchup. He must have not known how much she would want, because there were two burgers taking up the majority of the room on the plate with a pile of fries nearly covering them. Jake himself had retreated to the living room and was munching away on a stack of burgers and a mountain of fries—multiple plates' worth—while watching television.

Her mother had never let her eat while watching television. When they were both around at the same time, they would eat and talk and laugh together, whether on the couch or on the floor or in the kitchen. But more often than not, Samantha would be at school and her mother would be at work, and it was rare that a babysitter had been afforded. So Samantha had also grown up deeply appreciating having someone to talk to when she ate.

Too often she and her mother had been forced to eat separately and alone.

"There's always someone out there saying something worth hearing at least once," Samantha's mother had used to say. "When you miss me, pick up something I'm reading and pretend it's me telling you the story. That way you'll always have me to talk to."

Samantha had grown up with a pile of books at the kitchen table, a pile that each female added to whenever they came across something the other might enjoy, so Samantha was very used to reading while eating. And she had never felt lonely, not completely, not even when she was all alone.

Another stab of that deep, overwhelming loneliness that accompanied thoughts of her mother swept through her. Samantha'd had a plan, and that plan was rapidly falling apart around her. She had spent all this time preparing herself for things to be a certain way, and now that those things were something different, Samantha could feel her control slipping away from her. No matter how sick her mother had become, she had always been Samantha's steady ground, and that ground had been pulled out from beneath her feet. A lifetime of book-free tables was facing her, a lifetime of never absently thumbing through her mother's latest addition to the pile. That loneliness welled up into grief so intense that Samantha had to clamp her lips together to keep it all inside and silent.

He'd seen her cry once, and that was once too many. Jacob Black had already been witness to enough of her weakness, and Samantha was determined that not even he would see her cry again.

When she got ahold of herself, Samantha cleared her thought and said, "Thank you for the food."

"Yup."

She wanted to join him. She wanted to sit on the couch next to him, to feel the heat of his hand on her waist again. She wanted to watch the news like he was and lose herself in other people's problems. Instead Samantha cut a forkful of the closest burger and ate it, grease and butter and cheese and mayonnaise and undercooked beef and all, making a decision. Anytime she missed her mother this badly, she'd do her homework. She'd redo her homework. She'd learn every word or every text that they gave her, and let those be her mother's words. And maybe, one day she wouldn't feel this much pain.

Samantha swallowed the bite of burger and cut herself another, turning the page.

* * *

><p>Yup. His imprint was in there, her heart broken so completely that Jake could feel his own cracking and giving way, and all he'd managed to say was "yup." It was their first Friday night together, and Jake was so busy from running patrols for his migraine-plagued Beta, hunting the leech that had been targeting Claire, and fighting through tribal red tape for his imprint, he'd all but forgotten her. The reason she'd trained so late with Embry was because Jake had managed to be that late.<p>

Embry had covered for him, but Jake was pretty sure that he was the worst imprinted wolf _ever_.

Seth didn't think that Jake was the worst imprinted wolf ever, he just thought that Jake was caught in between his imprint's body language and what the bond was telling him. The bond was telling him that she was hurting, and to go in there and wrap around her, to comfort her any way her could. But Samantha's body language was telling Jake to give her space and leave her alone. Her posture was inviting up to a point, but those last couple feet were no-man's land. She wanted people around, but she only wanted them so close. It left Jake spinning in circles, left him focusing on the things he could fix, running himself ragged.

Yeah, Seth was just repeating shit that Jake had already told him. What was Jake supposed to _do_?

Seth didn't know, but he did know that he was getting another headache and he needed to try to sleep it off. He'd try to wolf-up and get his ass to school next week. Maybe if he met her, Seth would be more help.

As he worked on his third burger, Jake wondered if Samantha Carter had any idea he was hunting her from a room away. Yeah, the television was on, but it was on the _news_. Jake never watched the news, not unless Nessie convinced him to do so. Instead he was listening to his imprint, memorizing things. How fast she read, how her fingernail scraped along an inch of the paper edge and that she'd pause for a moment right before she turned a page. Considering what she had read? Maybe. Wondering if she was only feet away from a stalker? More likely.

But then he had given her the food, and despite how quiet Jake had tried to be, Sam had still noticed almost instantly. And then, for whatever reason that he couldn't understand, he'd felt her shatter inside. Something had made her so unbearably sad that it had nearly caused Jake to crush his root beer bottle in his fist. She had felt all of that, so much so that Jake had not known how to deal with it himself and had wanted to start punching things. Unconsciously Jake had reached out for Seth just to center himself, as he had done too many times in the last couple of days.

Jake's poor Beta had been taking a beating, trying to deal with the weight of Jake's quicksilver emotions these days and trying to block the rest of the Pack from him. But Seth was the only one strong enough to keep Jake anchored. Every time the Alpha thought about the sound his imprint had made when that bullet had torn the ground next to them, it was all he could do not to phase and start eating things.

Seth knew. He knew, and he understood. He understood that Sam had been a mess of emotions since Jake had met her, no matter how cool of a cover she kept, and those were rebounding on Jake. She was worried, so Jake was reacting to that. Seth also understood that his Alpha had just imprinted on a girl who Embry was pretty sure could have disarmed Carter, kicked his ass, and kicked Carter's friends' asses all on her own. She was worried, because she didn't know yet that she didn't have to be worried anymore. That was okay. Until she did, the guys were with her at school, Embry was with her in his dojo after school, and Jake was with her when she got done with that. Seth would personally stick himself to her like glue, right then and there, if Jake needed him to. But really, Seth was pretty sure that Jake just needed to eat something, make out with his imprint, and then fall asleep with her on the couch.

If Seth had an imprint instead of just a stupid headache, that's what he would be doing right now, instead of trying to fall asleep on the couch all by his lonesome.

Jake smiled a little at that, shaking his head. Helping Seth go to sleep was almost as commonplace to the Alpha as deciding he wanted to close his fist or wiggle his toes. The Pack were all extensions of himself, and Jake simply decided that he wanted Seth to sleep, focusing his energy on it happening, an invisible muscle that was easier to use each day. Seth's gratitude kept the smile on Jake's face, the relief tangible through his bond to his wolf.

It was tempting to try to influence his imprint the same way, but Jake knew exactly how painful losing a parent could be. And really, that was what was happening. It had taken Charlie contacting Chicago Child Protective Services to find out why Samantha had moved. His imprint hadn't said a single word about her mother dying, and they had all assumed that this was her being sent to live with her father instead. That happened in divorced families all the time, and Samantha's mother had never even been married to Joe Carter. But no, the woman was dead, and when Samantha had said there was no one else to call, she hadn't been exaggerating. There was literally _no one_ in her life that had a personal investment in what happened to her now. The closest was some woman named Carol at Chicago CPS who was transferring the paperwork that put Samantha into the care of strangers. Stranger like Billy Black and Charlie Swan.

Strangers like Jake.

And yet she was in there, silent and studying and not letting anyone know she was crushed inside. That pain was something Jake was more than familiar with. It had taken him months to not feel it every single day. Would it have been easier for someone to take his pain away when his mother died? Yes. Would it have been right? No. Jake had loved his mother, and she had deserved every bit of his mourning for her. If Sam had felt a hundredth of what Jake had felt for Sarah Black, then this was simply something that she was going to have to go through, every gut-wrenching bit of it.

And Jake would just have to do the same. Every. Gut-wrenching. Bit.

* * *

><p>Samantha couldn't make it through the burgers. She tried, but the combination of fats was simply too rich for her, and the best so could do was to get one down and some of the fries. Hoping she wouldn't offend him, Samantha tucked her leftovers into a Tupperware container and stuck them in the fridge. Jake was still watching the news, so she cleaned the cookie sheets that had been used to bake the frozen fries. The skillet full of grease was on its own. Samantha didn't see a garbage disposal, a grease jar, or any other means of getting rid of it short of dumping it down their sink and risking clogging the pipes.<p>

She'd finished her homework, read the next chapter for math, and had reviewed her notes for the day. It was getting late, and Samantha packed her bags up for Monday morning. She took the bags to Jake's bedroom, glancing at him as she did. Jake was sprawled out lazily on the couch, foot up on a coffee table that desperately needing cleaning, idly scraping ketchup off of his plate and eating it off his thumb. It didn't gross her out, although Samantha did wrinkle her nose when Jake added more ketchup from a second bottle he'd taken into the living room and continued to do the same.

"If you're still hungry, I couldn't finish mine," Samantha said quietly as she entered the living room. It had been his territory, so she kept her eye on him, making sure he wasn't bothered by her approach. "I could heat up the leftovers."

"Naw," Jake replied, thumbing off the last of this round of ketchup. "I'm good, I'm just bored."

Bored? Maybe. Exhausted? Clearly. She didn't know him well, but even Samantha could see that.

"Are you a current events type of guy?" Samantha asked, looking at the furniture and thinking that the recliner seemed to be a 'father' recliner. Some of her friends in her old school had 'father' recliners in their houses, and those were definitely off limits for other people to sit.

"Not really," Jake said, giving her a lopsided smile. He sat up more and turned his shoulders slightly in her direction, changing the angle of his bare foot on the coffee table. "I've just been staring at the screen, mostly. You want to put a movie on?"

Samantha shrugged, moving deeper into the room and investigating more thoroughly than she had the previous nights. There was small, battered media display near the television. By the amount of dust on the shelves versus the top, the Black men only cleaned what was easily visible and only when they absolutely had to.

"Depends on what you have."

"Not a whole lot, actually. I always go watch stuff with Seth and Leah. Sue deals with stress by cooking and buying movies, so it's a pretty good place to hang out at."

Samantha smiled a little at that and moved to the movie case.

What they had was mostly old black and white Westerns and a collection of George Carlin standup tapes, all in VHS. The DVDs were few in number, and nearly all were centered around people driving or stealing fast cars, and lots of guns and explosions. Jake had risen from the couch and moved to stand behind her as she perused the movies, easily reading over her shoulder. The last time he had stood this close to her, his arm had been around her waist, and Samantha couldn't help but remember how nice that had felt. Glancing up at him, Samantha saw that Jake wasn't actually reading the movies. Instead he was looking down at her.

Samantha hooked a movie and turned, leaning back against the case and giving herself an extra two inches of space between them. She knew her back was to the wall, and she knew that he was large enough and strong enough to cause her some serious problems in protecting herself. But Samantha simply smiled up at him, because Jake was smiling down at her too. He leaned his elbow against the wall above her head and put his other hand on the media display next to her hip, forming a barrier around her made from his body alone. Close, but not touching her.

"Our movie collection sucks," Jake rumbled, thumb tapping the case in her hand. "That's not even ours."

"I won't hold it against you," Samantha said, the teasing edge to her voice softening even as she spoke.

He was leaning in, eyes flickering from hers and down to her lips. Samantha could tell that he was thinking about kissing her, and she decided that if he did, she wasn't going to pull away. Anyone else would get the backside of her fist, but if Jake wanted to kiss her, Samantha wasn't going to refuse him.

Frankly, the idea of kissing Jacob Black was the most pleasant part of her day.

"Sam? The other day you told me that you didn't want to feel like you had to sleep with me to keep a place to live."

Samantha nodded, wondering why his saying it out loud made her flush lightly. Probably because him saying it made her think about it, and while she had only minimal personal experience in those sorts of things, Samantha had a vivid enough imagination to keep that blush on her cheeks. If she had looked up, she would have seen a reddening of Jake's own face.

"I just wanted to make it clear that I don't want that from you. Not at all."

…Oh.

Samantha blinked, then tried to pretend that her face wasn't turning scarlet from mortification. She had just been thinking about what it would be like to have sex with him, too.

"_Shit_, I didn't mean it like that," Jake said, growling and shaking his head. "Wow, what a dickhead thing for me to tell you. What I meant was that I don't want _just_ that from you."

Samantha blinked again and then began grinning as Jake stepped back, physically backpedalling. "Shit, that was wrong too. I mean, I just mean that I don't want to sleep with you because you have to do it to stay here. I mean…dammit, this is coming out all _fucked_."

Just to play with him, she took a step forward and was rewarded by him backpedalling more, then dropping down to sit on the arm of the couch. Like this they were almost at eyelevel. Almost. He was still a little taller.

"Can I start over?" he asked, obviously frustrated. "I'm not normally this shitty at talking to girls, but I'm screwing everything up when it comes to you."

Unable to stop herself, Samantha closed the distance between them and patted Jake's arm. "Trust me, Jake. You would have to do a whole lot more than this to screw things up with me. You're the best person I've met in this town."

Jake tilted his head to the side, slouched a little, and then suddenly they were at eye level. Something inside Samantha preferred that and stepping closer in between his long legs was instinctive. Jake's hands found her waist, the heat of his skin warming her through her shirt. Samantha's fingers moved of their own accord, bracing against his broad shoulders.

"I'm going to try this again," Jake rumbled, his voice deeper and softer. "I don't expect anything from you, Samantha Carter. So at any time that you want me to stop, I will. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"Any time I want?" she asked, smiling a little. "What about you, Jacob Black? Shouldn't I promise not to make you uncomfortable?"

Jake chuckled at that. "Honey, you're going to have to do a _lot_ to make me uncomfortable," he teased gently, mimicking her earlier words. "And I mean a _lot_."

"How about this?" Samantha suggested playfully. "We can start with a hug and see if anyone runs screaming."

Samantha's hands slid up his shoulders, her arms wrapping loosely around Jake's neck. She knew that she was getting too close to him, physically, too fast, but at the end, Samantha's mother had been too weak to even lift her arms. Samantha had kept her distance from the few family friends they had left by the time her mother had died, unable to accept their hugs or expressions of concern. Jake's were the only hands that had really touched her in a long time, and even though she knew that the motivation driving her actions was misplaced, Samantha was starved for contact that she could trust. And she trusted him. Maybe he was a stranger, this massive young man that wore black leather jackets and rode motorcycles, but her instincts said that she could trust him.

So she did.

It was with trust that Samantha leaned in and hugged him. It was with trust that she stayed relaxed as Jake's muscled arms wrapped around her, one hooking her waist and the other angled across her back. And it was with trust that she rested her weight against Jake's strong body, allowing herself to take comfort in his presence. She had only meant to do so for a moment, but Samantha found herself pressing harder into him.

She had needed this so badly. Right now she'd probably do anything short of sleeping with him, if she could just keep him hugging her. And if he could hug every inch of her at the same time, it would be even better.

Jake's hands slid downwards, spanning her hips briefly before wrapping around her thighs. Lifting her was easy for Jake, she was less than half his bodyweight, and Samantha had to tighten her knees around his waist for balance as he settled back down on the arm of the couch. Now Samantha was finally taller than him, and she liked that Jake had to lean his head back to look up at her. It helped her feel centered, and when she bit the side of her lower lip and smiled at him, Jake grinned back at her, white teeth flashing.

"I've always wanted to do that," he admitted, still grinning. "Never had the chance before now."

"The last two guys I dated were my height," Samantha laughed softly. "The only one that tried wasn't strong enough and he dropped me on my ass."

It hadn't been meant as a challenge, but Jake smirked at her smugly, hooked his right arm beneath her rear end, and stood up. Not only did it not take an ounce of effort on his part, when Jake straightened to his full height, Samantha's head was almost brushing the ceiling.

"Maybe you should try tall and strong, as opposed to short and wussy," Jake suggested cockily, still looking beyond self-satisfied.

"You're right. And I was starting to like you too, but you're kind of a pansy," Samantha sighed, shaking her head in mock disappointment. "Oh well, maybe Embry Call is single—"

Samantha wasn't able to finish her sentence, because Jacob Black had just put her back to the wall, next to a small decorative table, the pressure of his hips into hers keeping her up and in place.

"I don't think so," Jake breathed in a sexy rumble, voice dropping dangerously. "I love my brother, but it's _my_ turn for once, Samantha Carter." Both hands free, Jake threaded his hands into her hair, tipped her face up, and—

And none other than Collin Littlesea burst through the front door without warning, the door slamming with a crack as Collin declared loudly. "Hey Jake! Paul wanted me to ask you—oh _shit_, dude. I am _so_ sorry."

Oh shit, because Jake had obviously been startled at the interruption and had jerked around. And Collin was sorry because in jerking around, Jake had done exactly what Samantha's last boyfriend had done in this situation. He had dropped her flat on her ass. Not only that, she had smacked one butt cheek into the corner of the table, snagging and tearing her jeans on the way down.

Samantha wasn't sure who looked more horrified: Jake for having done it, Collin for having caused it, or her for knowing that when she stood up, half of her rear end was going to be revealed for everyone to see. Then it became clear that Collin was the winner, because Jake let out a snarl so terrible that Collin actually squeaked.

"What the _**hell**_, Collin?"

"I am so _so_ sorry," Collin said, gulping. "Uhh, Jake?"

"_**What**_?" Jake snapped as Samantha accepted his hand helping her up.

"CanIhavethenightoffcauseIhaveadate?"

Jake didn't even dignify that with an answer. Instead he glared flatly at Collin until the other young man squeaked again and backed out of the house, tail between his legs. Samantha ran her hand over her butt and sighed, pretty sure that these jeans were ruined.

"So, I'm going to go pretend that didn't happen. If I make a strategic retreat, will you pretend that my ass isn't hanging out?"

"My masculine pride has already permanently erased this entire thing from my memory," Jake promised with an embarrassed groan. "If you don't see Collin at school on Monday, it's because I killed him tonight."

"I'm perfectly okay with that," Samantha promised dryly as she hurried to his room and her extra clothing stash.

The mood was pretty much broken, but they still had the movie to watch. After her return, Jake dropped back down to floor next to the couch, yawning and telling her to take it. It was all the same to him. Samantha stretched out comfortably, and if she didn't love the movie, she enjoyed relaxing and spending time with him. He fell asleep halfway through the most violent crash scene, proving her right about his tiredness. He woke up near the end, half-dozing until the credits.

A little chirp from his phone was all the alarm Jake needed to groan, rise to his feet, and stretch his muscled arms.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming pup," he mumbled groggily. "Serves your ass right if you don't get laid tonight.""

Samantha raised an eyebrow at that comments as Jake turned to her. "I need to take off, Sam. If Billy's not back by now, he won't be back until tomorrow morning." Jake blinked, then seemed to grow more alert and focused. "I might be gone until tomorrow night. You okay here by yourself?"

Samantha grinned at him, then shook her head. "Nope. I won't be okay having full control over the remote and unsupervised access to the box of cookies on the top shelf."

Jake chuckled, a pleasant rumbling sound that made her wiggle more comfortably into the couch cushions. "Emb will be around. If you need anything, let him or Billy know."

"I'll vacate your territory before you get back," Samantha promised. "Enjoy whatever it is you do in the middle of the night, Jacob Black. And thanks again for dinner."

"Maybe I'm protecting your pretty little ass from vampires," Jake replied, giving her a smile as he headed for the door. Then he paused and shot her a cheeky grin. "You might want to keep your pants on while I'm gone, ninja girl. If I know Collin, he's already told everyone about how you were trying to seduce me."

"I was not!" Samantha declared indignantly. Then she blinked and craned her head around, raising an eyebrow. "Wait, _vampires_?"

Jake's rumbling laughter followed him out the door.

* * *

><p>Apparently Samantha's butt was at that the top of everyone's list.<p>

Embry couldn't suppress his grin when he saw her bright and early Saturday morning, although to his credit, he didn't tease her nearly as much as he could have done. Instead he just snickered, reminded her that this was a family establishment and to keep her pants on, and told her to get warmed up for the beginner's class. He wanted her in both the beginner and advanced classes. The advanced, because that was the level she was currently at. The beginner, because apparently Samantha had picked up all sorts of bad habits in her years of training, and Embry was determined to fix them all, one at a time.

Samantha stood patiently against the wall, her arms loose at her sides as Embry moved down the line of his beginning students. Her sensei had a clap paddle in his hands, and each of them was supposed to do a single waist-level roundhouse kick. It was a basic move, the first any student learned, and one that took a beginner a while to master. However, Samantha wasn't a beginner. When it was her turn, Samantha did as the others had struggled to do, the paddle making a smacking noise with her well-aimed hit.

"Tighter, Sam."

Tighter. That was what he kept telling her, and Samantha had figured out that it was Embry's nice way of saying she was being sloppy. Except, Samantha had no idea what he meant by it, and each time Embry passed by her again, Samantha failing to meet his expectations, her brow furrowed more. She didn't want to be sloppy. She especially didn't want Embry to think that she wasn't capable of a simple move like this.

"Tighter, Sam," he repeated on the next pass, even though Samantha couldn't figure out just where she wasn't 'tight.' She was the proper distance away, she was turning her hip over the way she should. Her confusion was clear, because after giving her a few times to figure it out herself, Embry stopped in front of Samantha.

"You're throwing your leg up like it's the weapon," Embry told her. "It's not. _You're_ the weapon." He squeezed her shoulders, then her waist, then her hips. "This, Sam, you. You're Jack, not the giant coming down the beanstalk, so there's no reason to treat your leg like it's a club you're going to beat someone with. You're light and fast, so _use_ it. Get in, get the hit, and get out. _Tighter_, Sam."

Samantha tilted her head at that one, pursed her lips. Embry continued down the line, leaving her thinking about what he had said, her eyes flickering to movement outside the window. Someone tall was peering in, someone that Samantha didn't recognize, but his size made Samantha take note. He stepped inside, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest as he smiled brightly at her. There was something about him, something different, and Samantha continued to watch him warily.

"That's Seth," Embry told her, coming back around again, and Samantha nodded, distracted.

So this was Seth Clearwater. The fact that he was Jake's best friend would have normally made her consider him in a positive light, but this guy who had hit her father.

Samantha did her kick, keeping her eye on Seth. The resulting crack from the clap paddle startled even her, and Samantha turned her head quickly. Embry was grinning at her, but he addressed the class. "These things will let you know if you do the moves properly. Sam's form was near perfect that time, and you can hear the difference."

Please with his compliment, Samantha smiled slightly at Embry, but she returned her attention to Seth again.

He was attractive enough, she supposed, in that 'Abercrombie and Fitch model' way that Collin Littlesea was attractive, but there was something about him that didn't quite make her lose her cool. However, when he moved over to Embry's desk, leaning against it like he owned it, Samantha frowned. Seth dropped down into Embry's chair, sprawling lazily, and Samantha's frown deepened.

"Make yourself comfortable, asshole," she muttered under her breath.

Further down the line, Embry broke out into a fit of coughing, and when he moved in front of her again, announcing that this was the last time, he was grinning openly. However, Samantha never took her gaze off of Seth as she did her kick, finding herself unreasonably pissed off that Seth was digging through Embry's top drawer.

The resulting crack was not only just as loud as the previous one, it actually knocked the paddle out of Embry's grip.

"Alright, good job everyone," Embry said, shaking his head in amusement as he picked up the paddle from the floor. "Remember to practice your kata, and try to get a jog in every couple days. It'll help build endurance. Class dismissed."

They all bowed to him, thanking him for the instruction. Embry's returning bow was the sign that they were done, and Samantha broke out of position first. Samantha strode over to Seth, who was now beaming at her, and her eyes narrowed.

"You always get into people's stuff without asking first?" Samantha asked, to which Seth shared an amused look with Embry.

"Only when there's candy involved," Seth chuckled, still riffling through the candy drawer as he added more loudly, "I get the feeling I'm not making a good first impression, Emb."

He barely got his hand out in time when Samantha leaned over and forced the drawer shut. "You and I are talking outside."

Seth raised an eyebrow at her, and Samantha's voice softened dangerously. "I respect sensei's place, even if you don't. Besides, if I end up kicking your ass today, wouldn't you rather it _not_ be in front of some little kids?"

Embry's handsome face was marred in concern, and he started over, but Seth shook his head once and Embry stopped. That pissed Samantha off, so fast and so completely that it was almost everything she could do to contain her fury. She pivoted on her heel, still bare footed, and headed towards the dojo entrance. Seth rose to his feet and followed more slowly, a bemused expression on his face.

"You know, most people love me," Seth teased as they stepped outside, but Samantha wasn't interested in jokes. Instead she walked to the side of the building, where they were out of sight of the other students coming out. Seth leaned casually against the cement wall, shoulders relaxed. "So what's up?"

"Listen, Clearwater, I couldn't care less who loves you," Samantha snarled. "I'm telling you this once and only once. The next time you put your hands on my father, I'm breaking every bone in your body."

Seth didn't reply right away, but he did push himself off the wall. He stood up to his full height, which was head and shoulders over Samantha's height, but she simply tilted her head back to see him better and stared him down.

"He scared my mother," Seth said simply, his eyes intense and his face expressionless. "Among other things."

"I don't care what he did or didn't do. You're not touching him again."

"Do you want to know what you sounded like when your father shot that gun?" Seth asked randomly, tipping his head to the side. "Because my best friend can't get it out of his head. He's barely slept in days because of it, so he's been running around like a crazy man, trying to do everything he can to fix things for you."

"We're not talking about Jake, Clearwater," Samantha said flatly. "We're talking about what you did, and what you won't be doing."

"You've got a lot of loyalty to someone who threw you out like yesterday's trash," a female voice said from behind Samantha. She turned and saw a tall, dark haired woman watching, a slight smile on her stunning face. "And I hate to break it to you, chica, but you can't do shit to Seth. My little brother's a pussy, but he's light years past you."

They had her flanked. That was the first thought that Samantha had, and the second was that she didn't care.

"What happens in my family is my business, not yours," Samantha told them coldly. "Keep your hands off of him."

"Tough talk from someone that's living off Jake's charity," Leah replied with a smirk. Her words were meant to be humiliating, but Samantha would have needed to care about this woman's opinion for Leah's words to matter. Instead Samantha drew herself up taller, eyes locked on Seth.

Seth sighed, turning to face his sister. "Leah, was that really necessary? I'm trying to diffuse the situation, not make it worse."

"She already hates you, Seth, what's the use?"

The tall young man shot Samantha a sad puppy-dog look, but his voice was firm. "Listen, Sam, I'm sorry. The last thing I would have wanted was to upset you, but you're not the only one with family to protect. The reason I hit him was because he scared my Ma."

Samantha didn't reply, she just continued to stare him down with flat, unfriendly eyes. Seth sighed, rubbing his hand over the back of his head. "Okay, this isn't going well. Leels? Any advice?"

"Sure. Don't waste your time, and leave the gutter trash alone. Jake'll be by to pick it up later."

This time Seth's sigh was louder, more of a groan. Samantha turned towards Leah, who was smirking at her even larger now, as if sure she had pushed Samantha's buttons.

Samantha walked up to Leah, letting her eyes sweep the taller girl, deliberately evaluating. Then she said softly, "If you're trying to upset me, insults aren't the way to do it. The last thing in the world that matters to me is the opinion of a stranger. If you ever want a _real_ fight, princess, let me know."

Leah let out a snarl and Samantha tensed in readiness, but a heavy arm snagged her around the waist, twisting her behind a large body. Embry. And Embry looked _pissed_.

"Get inside, Sam!" Embry all but bellowed at her. "This is _my_ dojo, and _my_ students don't pick fights outside the door, where _children_ are watching!"

Sure enough, half of the beginner's class had poked their heads around the building to see what was happening to the best student in the class. At Embry's glare they jerked back and hid, although not before one pretty young teen named Skylar gave Samantha a bright grin. Embry wasn't grinning. Embry looked ready to strangle her.

Samantha locked eyes with Seth, and he just looked at her sadly. "Keep your hands off my father, Seth," she repeated quietly.

"_**Samantha Carter, get your ass inside that dojo**_!"

So she did.

* * *

><p>If any of Embry's students had been bellowed at like that, they would have run screaming. This girl just gave Seth one more warning look, cut her eyes warily towards Leah, and then turned and walked away. She didn't hurry, she didn't run. No, their Alpha's imprint just walked away to the corner of the building. Samantha hooked her hand around the metal railing above her head and did a little kick off the wall to help her swing up and over to the guardrail. Embry only had a single student who could have done the same thing at half the height, with half that ease of movement.<p>

He would have been impressed if he wasn't so angry.

"What the hell, guys? That's Jake's _imprint_," Embry hissed, looking between the siblings.

"She was getting into Seth when he didn't do anything wrong," Leah said shortly. "It pissed me off that she was hurting his feelings."

"Aww, Leels, you do love me," Seth joked, but he started rubbing his neck like his headache had come back. "In hindsight, coming here probably wasn't smart. She doesn't know anything about me other than that I punched her dad." He smiled slightly. "Did you see her when I got in your candy drawer, Emb? She went full defend Embry's territory mode. I like her."

Leah snorted. "She hates you."

"Naw, she loves me. Sam just hasn't figured it out yet. I'm very loveable, so she'll notice eventually."

But even Embry, in his angry state, could tell that Seth was a little discomfited by her obvious lack of loving him. Embry growled at the general direction of no one in particular. Finally Seth sighed. "Just give her some time. She's had a bad couple days."

"You get that I have to go in there and tear her a new one, right? Our _Alpha's imprint_." Embry growled again, then he shook his head.

"Or you could just give her a hug and tell her things will get better."

He didn't even notice that Seth had actually given him an order, albeit a gentle one, and Embry certainly didn't notice that he ignored that order completely. All Embry noticed was the look Seth shared with Leah behind his back as Embry went back in, and it hurt him to the quick.

Just like it always did.

* * *

><p>"<em>Sam<em>. Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw your ass out of here?" Embry snapped as he came back inside. "Can you give me a single reason that justifies letting you pick a fight in front of the younger students?"

Samantha was standing on the side of the dojo where Embry had them line up before and after classes, her back straight and her face expressionless. She couldn't, so she remained as she was, staring straight ahead with her arms at her sides.

"No, sensei," Samantha said without intonation, voice firm.

He was prowling in front of her like a caged animal, radiating his displeasure.

"I don't know how it worked back where you came from, Sam, but this is my dojo," Embry told her angrily. "In my dojo, we don't train to learn how to fight. We train to learn to _avoid_ confrontation. We train to learn discipline and self-control, respect for others and perseverance through difficult situations. We don't bring people out behind the dojo and threaten to hurt them in front of beginning students that don't _know_ better."

"Yes, sensei," Samantha said without a hint of emotion in her voice. It wasn't hard. She had learned a long time ago how to shut her feelings away and handle the situation at hand.

"Oh no you don't," Embry growled, stepping into her personal space and forcing her to see him. "You don't get to check out on me, Sam."

Embry braced his arms over her head, caging her in. For a moment, Samantha almost ducked away, to give herself more room. She could have easily rolled beneath his arm and treated him as a threat. Instead she fought back her instinctive need to be in a position of safety, and she let him remain like that. Let him dominate her with his proximity and his body position. Breathing deeply to steady herself, Samantha allowed herself to simply stand there. Allowed herself to trust him not to attack her despite his anger and his closeness. And with that vulnerability, Samantha couldn't keep the hurt from her voice.

"He hurt my father," Samantha said painfully, holding Embry's gaze. "And I have no one else. _No one_."

There was no reason why she should have known that he wanted to touch her, but Samantha knew. "That's not true," Embry said quietly, the anger in his voice shifting to something akin to frustration. "You get that I have to make an example of you," he said tightly.

She knew. She expected him to kick her out of his dojo. Instead Embry stood in the center of the dojo, his handsome face tight, as if he was doing something that caused him pain.

"Here's the way it'll be. In beginner's class on Monday, I'm going to have to make an announcement that you are being disciplined for instigating a fight. And I'm giving you a choice. Physical punishment in the form of pushups, or you need to leave." Embry's eyes locked onto hers. "I'm sorry, Sam, I really am, but you did it in front of the others. I can't let this go."

"I understand, sensei," Samantha said quietly, because she did.

So Embry made the announcement, and it was just as embarrassing getting called out in front of the other students as Samantha has expected it to be. And when Embry gave her the choice, she picked the pushups. Every day Samantha showed up to the dojo before the beginner's class. She would change, stretch, and jump rope for a few minutes to warm up as the beginning students came in. Then, as the other students took their places in line, Embry would point at far corner and tell her to either do pushups while she was there or leave. She had two weeks to do twenty-thousand pushups in his presence. That's what it would take to keep her place with them.

Samantha did pushups. It wasn't like she had anywhere else to be.

The beginning class was forty-five minutes long, and for forty-five minutes, Samantha did pushups. The break between the beginner and advanced classes was thirty minutes. Samantha did pushups for thirty more minutes. The advanced class was an hour and fifteen minutes long. Samantha did pushups for another hour and fifteen minutes. Then, after two and a half hours of pushups, Embry would dismiss his class, point at the door, and tell her to leave. The next day she came back, and it started all over again. The only difference was that there was a longer break in between the beginner class and the cardio kickboxing class that night.

Every single muscle in her back hurt. Every single inch of her arms and shoulders, chest and stomach, neck and even face hurt. By the end of the first hour of the first day, she had been nearly in tears from the effort expended. She obviously couldn't do pushups for that long, and it was clear that Embry had given her a task that couldn't be accomplished. But she was stubborn, and there was nowhere else to train, and sometimes it felt like martial arts was the only thing she had left in her life that was still familiar. And as torturous as this was, she was simply unwilling to give it up.

Maybe no one wanted Samantha Carter, but she wanted this dojo. And unlike getting through her father's locked front door, there was something she could do about it.

Jake had given Embry a hard look as he helped her on his motorcycle the first night. The second night he came to pick her up in an old pickup truck. That was a good thing, because by that night, Samantha could barely move her arms. By the third night, it was sweat and tears that dripped from her face onto the mat below her, but she still kept trying. Even when her muscles couldn't force herself all the way up, when her arms shook terribly, and when she fell repeatedly on her face, Samantha still kept trying. The students watched with curiosity at first, then confusion, then increased solemnness. Embry never spoke to her, he never acknowledged her beyond telling her to do pushups or to leave.

By the Thursday, Samantha could barely write with her pencil during school, her arms shook so much. And finally halfway through the all-belts class on the fifth night, Samantha hit her breaking point. Try as she might, she simply couldn't do another pushup. Her muscles were trashed. With a soft cry of frustrated, she tried to force it, and she felt something tear in her left arm. Samantha fell to the mat, shaking from pain.

For the first time since it had started, Embry moved to kneel in front of Samantha, the class silently standing where he had left them.

"You don't have to do this, Samantha," Embry told her quietly. "There's the door. You can walk out any time you want, and live your life the way you choose. If you hurt too much, if it's too hard, you can leave."

"I'm fine, Sensei," Samantha ground out through her teeth. She forced herself to her belly, then—holding her left arm tightly to her side—she got her right elbow into the mat. Then, because if Samantha was going down, she was going down with a fight, Samantha managed to get her right palm beneath her. She'd never done a one-armed pushup before, and her vision was swimming by the time she made it to the top of the pushup. Back down again. Another, and that was when her body was finished. It gave out on her completely.

Embry caught her, supporting her as she started to black out from the pain.

"You're done, Sam."

Instead of that flat disapproval, Embry's voice was gentle and if she didn't know better, she would have thought he sounded proud. Her sensei wrapped his arms around her, helping her back to her feet. She wobbled and she swayed, but after a moment Samantha managed to stay standing.

Her sensei returned to the front of the class, looking at them all equally. "There are many reasons to fight in life," Embry told them quietly. "Some of them are more worthy than others, but they all have a cost. This dojo is a place where we learn to face life's struggles, to fight our battles as they come, and where we learn that resorting to violence is the last possible option that we should ever take. What you learn here has to be reflected in your actions out there, or this is not the place for you."

Embry let that hang in the air, and he never once turned his eyes to Samantha. "Fight for what you want. Fight for what you believe in. Fight for what truly matters to you. Those are the fights that are worth the cost we pay in the end. But physical violence is our last resort, when all other ways of resolving our differences have been exhausted. If you try to live this way, then these walls will always be a place of shelter for you. Is that understood?"

"Hai sensei," the class intoned in unison, some of the younger students half a beat behind.

Samantha bowed her head in respect. "Hai sensei."

Embry nodded, "Good. Sam, how many pushups are you at?"

"Twelve thousand, two hundred, and thirty-four, sensei," she said softly, trying not to sound as discouraged as she felt.

"You're done for tonight," he told her gently. "Get a water and stay off to the side. Everyone else, continue practicing your kata."

"Hai, sensei."

Samantha did as she was told, but her arms were so trashed that her hands were trembling. She couldn't actually lift the weight of the bottle of water to her lips, so she cradled it in her lap, watching the others silently. No one would look directly at her except for Skylar. Sky didn't seem to be paying attention the way she should have been, and she kept messing up the third move of her kata. Embry went over and explained the moves to her, but Samantha could see that whenever Embry was within that range, Sky's attention was even more distracted. She would have smiled if she wasn't so worked. Instead, Samantha focused on controlling her breathing and ignoring the pain in her left arm.

She tried to open her water after about ten minutes, but she was no better than she had been before. Embry dismissed his class, but unlike the other times before, he didn't dismiss her. Instead he waited until everyone else had left, before coming over to where she was kneeling.

For such a large man, Embry moved gracefully, and Samantha watched him settle down cross-legged in front of her with some envy. Embry took her water bottle and opened it. Then, cupping her face in his hand, he tilted her head back slightly and placed the water bottle to her lips. Samantha was incredibly thirsty, and she drank the first half of the bottle in several long swallows. The water bottle was far lighter now, and she could hold its weight in her hands. Embry had other plans for her hands, though. He took her right hand in between his and he started with her fingers, rubbing them firmly but carefully.

Thus started the first massage of Samantha's life.

Embry's body temperature ran far higher than normal, just like Jake's did, and the combination of heat and gentle pressure on her fingers felt good. Then he moved to her right forearm, her right elbow, her right bicep. Her shoulders, shoulder blades, and neck. Down her left arm, slowly and methodically until he reached her left fingertips. When it hurt, he seemed to know and always lightened his touch until the knots and soreness had been massaged away as much as possible. Embry didn't say a word during the process, although he occasionally made a soft noise in his throat when she flinched from pain. He returned to her right hand and started all over again.

By the time he was done, it was clear exactly where Samantha had hurt her left arm. Embry rose and went to the bathroom, where he kept the medical supplies. He returned with a gel icepack, one of the kinds that only needed to be squished to activate the cold. He molded the icepack around her left bicep, secured it in place with medical wrap, and then told her to go lie down on the mat.

In another time, in another situation, having this attractive of a man straddling her waist and massaging her shoulders and back would have sent thrills up and down her spine. Now, she simply tried to keep quiet, to not let her pain or her relief from that pain show in her face.

He touched her hip in a way that signaled he wanted her to roll over, and then her sensei moved on to her legs. His hands were large enough that together they could circle the thickest part of her upper thighs, and he began the task of deeply massaging those muscles too. By the time he reached her ankles, Samantha was a puddle of gratitude, unable to move but in less pain than she'd been in for days.

"When you get home tonight, take a long hot shower, and keep the water on your chest," Embry rumbled as he kneaded the arch of her right foot. "Take some Tylenol for the next several days. It'll help with the inflammation."

"Hai, sensei."

The handsome man glanced at her. "When it's just us, you can call me Embry, Sam," he reminded her.

"Even when you're this angry at me?" she asked, quirking him a slight smile.

"I'm not angry at you…not the way you think I am," Embry replied quietly. He sounded upset with himself. "I'm angry because I don't like the position you put me in. I have to make a strong enough example out of you to keep the others from thinking it's okay to fight. I know Leah and I know that the only way to hold your own with her is to go head to head with her. And I understand wanting to protect your father. There's just no way for those kids to understand the difference, and I should have kicked you out of here for picking fights in front of them."

Samantha sighed softly when he popped each of her toes, then bent her foot to ease the strain down the top of it. "Why didn't you?"

"Because I worry about you," Embry finally admitted. "I see the look in your eyes when you're hitting a bag, and it's not the same as everyone else. They might want to be here, but I think you _need_ to be here. When I said that these walls can be a place of shelter, I was talking to them, but more than that, I was talking to you."

She knew. Of course she knew. Samantha leaned over and touched his arm. "Embry? You're doing what you need to do. I understand that. I'm not sorry for telling Seth to leave Dad alone, but I am sorry that I didn't think of where I was before doing it. I'll do my twenty-thousand pushups, and then everything will be okay, right? We'll be okay?"

For some reason, that was the most important part, making sure that he wasn't upset anymore. Embry gave her a very nice smile. "Yeah, we'll be fine." He finished rubbed her foot and then patted her knee. "We already are, Sam. Hot showers, Tylenol, and lots of food. It's not that your body can't take this kind of punishment, so much as you're not staying fueled up. Eat as many fruits and vegetables as you can, and plenty of lean proteins."

She winced, and his sharp eyes caught it. "I forgot that you're living with the Blacks. You've probably been eating nothing but butter, hamburger, and French fries for the last week, huh?"

Samantha wasn't going to say a word about it, but he chuckled anyway and stood up. She climbed slowly to her feet, cracking her neck gratefully. "Thank you for the massage, I've never had one of those before."

"You need another one after your shower, on your shoulders and arms at least. You'll be way too sore tomorrow if you don't. Ask Billy or Jake, neither will mind."

There was _no way_ she was going to ask Billy Black to rub her shoulders, and Samantha's face flushed at the very idea. Embry shot her a sudden grin. "Or you could just ask Jake."

Jacob was waiting for her outside like normal, having brought the truck again. The expression he gave Embry when they walked outside was flat, and he wordlessly opened her door for her, watching her climb gingerly inside. He snapped something at Embry in his native tongue, and Embry immediately dropped his head, replying quietly. Jacob snorted and shook his head, walking around the truck.

"What did you say to him?" Samantha couldn't keep from asking.

"I called him a dick, among other things. It's far more satisfying in Quileute, although the translation isn't exactly word for word."

"It's not his fault I screwed up," she reminded Jake as he started the engine and pulled away from the dojo. Suddenly remembering something, Samantha gave Jake a bright, if tired, smile. "Collin paid me twenty bucks to do his homework for him during lunch yesterday. Can I buy you dinner?"

The massive young man flashed her a white-toothed grin. "Actually, I have a surprise for you."

"Uh oh. What kind of surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, karate girl," Jake teased her, draping his arm on the back of the seat. Samantha liked that and she settled into her seat, closer to Jake's arm, feeling pleased. It didn't matter how trashed she felt, and how trashed she looked. Embry wasn't angry with her, and Jake had a surprise for her.

"So how was your day?" she asked after several minutes of comfortable silence, the truck rumbling along roads she still hadn't learned yet before turning onto a dirt lane.

Jake winked at her as he pulled the truck off the side of the lane and parked next to an unmarked trail. "Compared to yours it was a breeze. What's the tally at so far? Did you break ten-thousand?"

"Twelve-thousand, two-hundred, and thirty-four. It might be thirty-five, but I'm not sure if the last one counted. It was one-armed."

He looked impressed and annoyed in equal amounts. "You know, I can just _make_ him let you train again. This is getting to be ridiculous."

Samantha shook her head. "He had to make it look awful, so everyone would know that fighting outside of the dojo is wrong. It's all okay, we talked about it. I'll do my pushups and everything will be fine. So about this surprise…"

"Come on," he said, taking her hand. "It'll be best from over here."

Even though she was exhausted from the pushups, Samantha followed Jake up the steep, narrow trail. After about a ten minute hike, much of which gained elevation quickly, the trail opened up right before the edge of the cliffs. It was clear that Jake had already been there setting this up, because a pair of lawn chairs had been placed a few feet back from the drop-off, one of which had a thick warm blanket folded up on it. A cooler sat in front of the chairs, with a large bottle of Tylenol perched on top.

"You did all of this for me?" Samantha asked, startled.

"Tonight is a meteor shower," Jake explained, rubbing his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. "I guess I thought you might want to see it. I know it's a Friday night and you're used to the city. If you'd rather do something else, we could go into town, or catch a movie or something. I probably should have asked first…"

When she lived in Chicago, the light pollution from the streets and buildings made it nearly impossible to see more than one or two stars at night, and half the time what she thought was a star ended up being a plane instead. So Samantha had never seen a meteor shower in real life, and she beamed up at him. When he saw her smiling, Jake's own face split into a rather silly grin.

If her arms had worked better, she would have hugged him. Instead Samantha went up on her tiptoes, tugging his arm to ask him to lean down. She pressed her lips to Jake's jaw, the highest she could reach.

"It's a good surprise," Samantha promised him. "With these kinds of surprises, you never have to ask first."

Jake seemed pleased at that, and even though he still looked a little embarrassed, he kept catching her eye and grinning at her. It was impossible not to grin back. Samantha settled herself gingerly into the smaller of the two chairs, and she didn't argue when he handed her the blanket. The cooler was deceptive, because instead of being filled with ice, it held two tall thermoses of still hot coffee, a loaf of whole wheat bread, and a jar of peanut butter.

"When does the meteor shower start?" she asked, taking a sip from one of the thermoses. Thankfully her arms were able to support that much weight now, although barely. If Jake noticed that they were trembling lightly, he didn't say anything.

"I think it already did, but it should get better soon," he rumbled. "More of them should be visible. Want a sandwich?"

Samantha did want a sandwich, and when Jake offered her a second, she ate that one too. Technically it wasn't fruits and vegetables, but peanut butter seemed a lot healthier than the fat-enriched dinners she'd consumed so much of lately.

"You're tired of burgers, aren't you?" Jake asked her with a chuckle as she reached to make yet a third sandwich.

Unwilling to complain about his and Billy's generosity, Samantha instead handed Jake her third sandwich and started making a fourth. "I'm just not used to that heavy of food," she told him, smiling to soften the statement in case he'd been offended. "We pretty much lived off of granola bars, salads, and breakfast foods. I think we ate cereal for dinner every night for three months straight my sophomore year before we decided to branch out to scrambled eggs and toast. Red meat was a rarity in our house and was always immediately sacrificed to some sort of Mexican food creation."

Jake nodded, taking off a third of his sandwich in one bite. "We used to eat all this weird shit when the twins were here. Rebs was the one that actually cooked after Mom died, and she bought all these super complicated cookbooks from different places around the world she wanted to live. Rach will only eat stuff drowned in hot sauce and stuffed full of chili peppers, so the combinations got pretty rough. After years of shit I can't even try to pronounce, Billy and I eat burgers. It all tastes the same anyways, since the peppers have scaled off our taste buds."

Samantha snickered, asking, "What was the worst?"

"The worst? There's so many I can't even remember them all. But…" Jake trailed off, then he laughed. "The worst was when they tried to make six-pepper stuffed peppers. Rebs let Rach pick the peppers, and some vendor in Seattle convinced her to try ghost peppers. We could have dealt with the heat, but the pork in the stuffing was rancid, and we all got food poisoning. I've never hurled that much in my life."

Giving him a commiserating look, Samantha nibbled at her final sandwich. The massive young man at her side finished his own, and then he rested his elbows on his knees. Tilting his head to catch her eye, Jake gave her a flirty wink. He was ridiculously attractive, and Samantha flushed at the attention. Then she smiled too, because it didn't matter how sore she was. She was full and relaxed and she was with her favorite person in this town.

He looked like he wanted to say something, something important, but then Jake shook his head and gave her a lazy smile. "What's the worst thing you ever ate?"

Samantha hummed thoughtfully around her sandwich, peeling a corner of crust off with her fingernails. "I ate a person once."

Jake choked on his drink of coffee. Samantha grinned at him mischievously. "Okay, it's just speculation. Mom thought that the curry was chicken curry and the chicken was just so badly cooked that it was unrecognizable. But I've at least seen—if not eaten—beef, pork, goat, frog, seafood, and various poultry in my life, and nothing ever looked and tasted like that curry meat. I'm maintaining that it was a person."

Her companion chuckled, a warm pleasant noise that made her want to shift closer to him. Samantha almost did just that, but then something in the sky drew her attention. The meteor shower was starting.

It was beautiful.

Her eyes stayed on the stars as Samantha fell quiet, mesmerized by the streaks of light passing overhead. She wished upon on a shooting star until she ran out of things she wanted to wish for. Smiling at herself, she glanced over at her companions. Only then did Samantha realize that while she had been watching the sky, Jacob Black had been watching her. Not staring, per say, but watching her in a way that made her pulse quicken. He had always looked at her with interest and amusement, but there was something more now. Something new, but something deeper. Something more important.

"I'm not good with girls," he said quietly, voice deepening into a low rumble. "I usually end up in the friend category."

Samantha winked at him, snuggling into her chair and pulling her blanket up to her neck. "I don't know about that. You seem to be doing well so far."

Large, heated fingers touched the side of her throat gently. Asking silent permission. Nodding wordlessly, she shifted into that careful touch. Jacob leaned closer, then he dipped his head and kissed her. For a brief moment they stayed like that, lips just brushing, both of them motionless. Then he slid his fingers around the back of her neck and very carefully deepened the kiss.

There was a hesitation in his actions that matched his self-consciousness, and Samantha realized that for all of his appeal, Jacob Black had kissed very few girls in his life. So she pulled back just enough to swallow, keeping the kiss from getting sloppy. Then Samantha leaned in again and she kissed Jacob this time. He settled into the kissing with an enthusiasm that outmatched his experience level, and she couldn't help but lick her lip the next time she shifted away.

"You're missing the meteor shower," he reminded her huskily, the deepening of his voice causing her pulse to rise. Samantha had messed around with previous boyfriends, but no one had ever looked at her the way Jacob was looking at her. It was intimidating and exhilarating and left her as breathless as his kisses had.

"I'm multitasking," she teased, flashing him a pretty smile.

His dark eyes dropped to her mouth, and Jacob's answering grin was just as bright and beautiful as the first time they had met. Then he kissed her again, because there was absolutely nothing to stop either one of them.

It was Embry's fault that nothing else happened that night, because when the kisses continued, Samantha tried to wrap her arms around Jacob's neck. The result was a noise of pain that successfully broke the mood. However Jacob had brought Tylenol, and after swallowing two, she washed the pills down with a drink of coffee and earned herself that backrub that Embry had suggested. Jacob's hands were warm and careful on her sore muscles, and by the time he had finished, so had the meteor shower.

"Do you want to meet my friends?" Jacob asked her after they hiked back to the lane and were packing up the truck.

She gave him an amused look. "There are more? You have a lot of friends, Jacob Black."

He chuckled as he slammed the tailgate shut. "Naw, it just seems like that because we're all so big."

Jake drove them to a pizza parlor that was packed…not surprising for a Friday night in a small town. At first Samantha was upbeat and almost excited, enjoying walking into the place with Jacob Black at her side. But the group they were meeting was easy to spot despite all of the other people, and Samantha's smile fell.

Seth Clearwater was there, playing pool with someone older than Jacob and almost as tall. A third man was leaning against the wall, drinking a beer as he watched the two others play. Two women were seated at a small table tucked behind the pool table, sharing a basket piled high with French fries as they talked.

"Don't be too pissed, honey," Jake murmured in her ear, voice rumbling with amusement. "Seth wanted a second chance to make a first impression. He's my best friend, and he wants to get along with you."

The evening had been so nice that Samantha felt herself give Jake a nod of grudging acceptance. "I'll try," was the most Samantha was willing to agree to.

All three males looked up as she and Jacob made their way across the room. The taller, stern faced man gave Samantha a nod and an equally stern attempt at a smile. Seth's smile was much warmer, much friendlier, but it set her teeth on edge. The third man seemed to perk up at her and Jacob's entrance, looking at her curiously.

Clearly these were part of the 'Jake's friends' part of the evening, so Samantha forced aside her animosity towards Seth and focused instead on meeting the four that she didn't know.

Glancing at Jacob to make sure she had honed in on the right people, Samantha headed towards the pool table. Jacob was a massive, silent shadow on her heels. Something caused the two women to look up at exactly the same time, and they both gave Jacob matching smiles of welcome before realizing that he hadn't come alone. The shorter of the two women had ended up leaning sideways on her chair, the action causing her to accidentally knock her drink with her arm. The other caught it, but ended up with soda sloshed all over her hands and wrists. The fries lying between them had never had a chance.

"Opps!" The shorter woman said, hastily grabbing napkins to dry her friend off with. "I'm sorry, Emily! Jacob, that was mean." She didn't look upset. Instead the brunette was barely focusing on her drying efforts, still beaming at Jacob and Samantha.

"He did it to me too, the brat," the older woman replied, giving Samantha and Jacob both a warm look despite her words. She had a set of deep scars that ran down one side of her face, causing her eye and mouth to droop slightly on that side. The other side of her face was stunningly beautiful.

Samantha wasn't sure what Jacob had done, but maybe he had made a face at them from behind her back, because he was chuckling. "Aww, I'm in trouble already? How is that fair? We just got here?"

"You were born in trouble, Jake," Emily joked, drying her hands off and rising to her feet. "You must be Samantha. I'd shake your hand, but I'm all sticky now."

"I'm Kim," the shorter woman introduced herself cheerfully, going further and giving Samantha a hug. "It's great to meet you, he's been going on about you all week."

"I've got wetnaps," Samantha spoke up helpfully, wincing at the soreness of her arm muscles as she dug through her pockets. "Here."

"You had wetnaps in your pocket?" Jacob grinned down at her. "Who carries wetnaps in their pockets?"

"I'm a mystery," she joked in reply despite having a very valid reason for those wetnaps. "It's nice to meet you both."

Jake chuckled, wrapping one massive arm around her shoulders and tugging her to his side. "Guys, this is Samantha. Sam, meet Sam Uley, Jared Qahla, and you've met Seth. When Paul isn't so busy at the bar, I'll introduce you to him too."

It was clear that these people all meant a lot to Jacob. He sounded proud of them, deeply proud of them all. And they all looked very pleased to be meeting her. All of them including Seth, who was still smiling, but his smile seemed somewhat sad. The women were extremely friendly, asking about her and trying to make her feel comfortable in the group. The men were quieter but just as friendly. And it was clear that every single one of them was very happy to be with Jake, although Paul's grunt of greeting left her smiling in private amusement.

These people had a pleasant but strange dynamic. Samantha was used to being with friends, but this group seemed to take clear pleasure from each other's presence. Seth and Jake hugged and touched Kim and Emily almost as much as Jared and Sam (their significant others) did. And even though no one but Kim had touched Samantha, the men seemed to have closed in around her as thoroughly as they had the other two women. She felt isolated within the customer-packed restaurant by their presence, an island of eight among a sea of others and separated by a wall of broad shoulders and muscled arms.

Samantha didn't mind, although she would have been happier giving one of the people on that island a boot into shark-infested waters. As if Jake had known what she was thinking, the tall young man gave her a beautiful white toothed grin.

"You just thought something mean, didn't you?" Jake teased, tugging her closer to him and kissing her in front of the group of them. He had played pool with her and lost, he had played pool with Seth and lost, and then he had played pool with Kim and lost so badly that Jared was still grinning about it.

"I plead the fifth," Samantha murmured, giving Jake a wink despite the rosy blush on her face.

She caught Sam Uley's lips curving in a slight smile, but it might have been because his girlfriend was pinching his rear end and not because Jake was grinning down at her as widely as Samantha was grinning up at him. Hers was a stupidly broad smile that she just couldn't keep off of her face. Next to the pool table, Seth's shoulders relaxed slightly, indicating that Samantha had been watching him more thoroughly than she'd realized despite how distracting Jacob Black was. Case in point, his hand was on her hip and his mouth near her ear again.

"You have the right to remain silent, but I can and will use your smirks against you," Jake teased, making her laugh.

On impulse Samantha hugged him, forgetting that her arms hurt and hugging Jake was like hugging concrete. It felt good to be close to him, and suddenly they were on an island of two. This one Samantha would keep out of the shark-infested water by the scruff of his neck if she had to. Jake snugged her in closer, and she could swear that he sniffed her hair before relaxing his arms.

"Hey Sam, do you want something? I'm buying."

She wasn't hungry in the least, not after the sandwiches. Samantha didn't want to disappoint her date, especially considering that Jacob was clearly eyeing the pizza at the next table over, but pizza was the last thing that Embry had recommended for her.

"If I eat too heavily tonight, it'll suck tomorrow morning," she told Jake honestly as she stepped back, unconsciously rubbing her sore arm. "But if they could make me a smoothie at the bar, I'd really like that. Strawberry, please."

"Chocolate it is," Jake replied teasingly.

He smiled at her and then leaned down and kissed her in front of his friends. It was a quick kiss, but it was bold, and Samantha found herself grinning at that boldness. When he turned to leave, Samantha pinched his rear end just because she wasn't above being bold either.

"Would you like to play?" Seth offered after Jake left, and Samantha's smile slipped.

"No thanks," she replied curtly. If Seth hadn't have been Jacob Black's best friend, she would have left it at that. But he was, so she tried to soften her comment. "I hurt my arm tonight, and I can't lift much. One game is my max."

Seth gave her a sympathetic look. "Yeah, you've been holding it like it hurts."

Samantha wasn't in the habit of blaming others for her decisions, and the only regret she felt over her situation was the fact that it had bothered Embry so much. But that didn't mean that she liked Seth looking at her like that, like she was weak, like she was vulnerable. Her eyes flashed with sudden heat as Samantha stood up.

"You know what, I will play. With you."

Without asking she dropped a ten dollar bill on the edge of the table, the same bet they'd all been making. Samantha had taken ten from Jake the way everyone else had. The tall young man nodded, although Seth's shoulders tensed again. Not much, just enough that it told Samantha he wasn't as relaxed around her as he had been when Jake was there. The others had grown quieter as Samantha racked the balls, Seth indicating for her to break.

Jake showed up with her smoothie, and he gave them all an amused look. "Are we playing nice, children?"

In answer, Samantha broke with a solid cracking noise, ignoring the pain in her arm completely. She winked at Jake, accepting her smoothie. "Thank you." Then she shifted her body in between her date and Seth, blocking the younger man's view of Jake…somewhat. At least the action drew Seth's attention, which was what she preferred.

Seth Clearwater might be all puppy dog eyes and sweet smiles, but Samantha could see the power in his muscles, the intelligence in his eyes, and the ease in which he moved around the table. He was dangerous, and he'd turned that on her family. Samantha wasn't planning on giving him the option of turning on anyone else she cared about, even if Jacob Black looked like he could take care of himself just fine.

Jake's phone rang, and he tilted the screen Samantha's way so that she could see a photo of a beautiful little girl. "It's Nessie," he told her apologetically. "I need to take this." Then Jake chuckled, giving her a quick squeeze around her waist. "Try not to eat Seth while I'm gone. Sue would scalp me."

Samantha didn't reply, she just watched Jake answer his phone, the massive young man's voice softening in affection as he walked away. "Hey baby. Give me a sec, Ness, I'm somewhere loud—"

Turning back to the game, Samantha saw Seth watching her. His handsome face looked sad as he idly fiddled with the stick chalk. "I know you don't like me," Seth told her quietly. "Having Emb put you through the ringer all week probably made it even worse. But I'm not your enemy, Sam. I'm never going to be your enemy."

"Let's start with you playing pool," she replied tightly. Samantha could feel the eyes of Jake's friends watching their exchange, but she ignored them. "It's your shot."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Did you hit my father?" Samantha asked coolly. Seth didn't answer, his eyes regretful, so she continued. "Then there's nothing to talk about. And it's not sensei's fault that I made the choices I made. My opinion of you has nothing to do with him."

Seth sank the next ball despite barely looking at it.

"I hit Joe because he was frightening my mother," Seth said firmly, ignoring her words. "Ma's your height and half his weight soaking wet. He shoved his way into our house and started yelling at her. I threw him out. If he hadn't have shot at you and Jake a couple hours earlier, I wouldn't have been so rough, but I wasn't taking any chances."

At her silence, Seth nodded curtly and proceeded to run the table. When he was done, he put Samantha's money in his pocket. It was the first thing he'd done that she respected. Then he reset the table and broke.

"Your father isn't an easy person to be around," Seth told her as the balls clinked around the table. "It's already made your life harder here, and that must be hard to stomach. But it's not your fault that he is the way he is. It's not your job to protect him."

"And protecting your parents is?" Samantha shook her head as she sank her shot but missed the next one. "That's completely hypocritical."

"Keeping an eye on my ma has been my job since my dad died," Seth said calmly, if even more sadly. He was rubbing his neck as if he was getting a headache, just like he'd done at the dojo.

Samantha tried to ignore the sympathy she felt for his loss of a parent, feeling like a traitor. But the loss of her mother was too close to her heart, and her voice softened. "Then I guess we're in the same boat," she said quietly. "It's your shot."

Seth didn't take the shot. Instead he stood there, leaning against his pool cue as he looked down at her. "My ma and yours were close," Seth told her, his voice gentling. "She took it hard when she heard what happened. Ma wants to have you over, but I told her that the last thing you probably wanted was a stranger fretting over you. If I was wrong, the invitation stands."

Then he leaned down and missed his next shot. Samantha sighed, once more feeling herself cave to puppy dog eyes.

"Listen, I get what you're saying. And I'm willing to accept that Joe probably did scare your mother, which would piss me off too. Just keep your hands off of my dad and you and I are okay. Okay?" She gave him a slight smile. "Besides, I think Embry took the fight out of me, so I need a week to recover before I can kick your ass the way I promised."

The smile Seth flashed her in return was sweet and almost as beautiful as Jake's. "Agreed. It's your shot, Sam."

"You mean, it's my chance to get Collin's money out of your pocket and back into mine? We're definitely agreed." Samantha smirked as Seth barked out a laugh at her facial expression. "I stole that fair and sq—"

Midsentence, Samantha's voice trailed off, her stomach twisting and her eyes growing wide. Her father had just walked in and was headed over to a table of men that she assumed were his friends.

Joe Carter looked like he'd been hit in the face by a semi-truck.

If Samantha had been mad at Seth before, it was nothing compared to what she felt when she saw her father. The whole left side of his face was black and deep blues, the bruising so deep that after a week and a half, it hadn't faded or greened at all. It had only started to look its worst. His nose had been broken, with the telltale redness, swelling and bruising that came along with the break. His left eye was reddened with burst blood vessels. Seth hadn't just hit her father, he had thrashed him.

And the first thing her father saw after kicking her out was Samantha standing there, playing pool with Seth Clearwater, smiling at him.

The look on Joe's face would have been easier to read without all the bruising, but even from across the building, Samantha could see the anger and disgust. He turned and headed back out of the door again.

"Dad," Samantha breathed, then she was pushing her way through the crowd, trying to follow him with her cue stick still in hand. "Dad, I want to talk to you. Dad, _stop_."

Her hip hit the side of a table with a thud as she darted in between Joe and the door, blocking his way of leaving. "Are you okay? Where were you? I kept coming by—"

"Get it through your head, Sam," Joe snarled down at her, cutting her off. "_You aren't mine_. I've been in lockup for your momma plenty of times, and I never regretted it. But I spent a week and a half in Forks cause of you, girl, and you weren't worth a single minute. Get out of my way before I make you."

"No," Samantha fought despite her humiliation of begging him. "I want to come home. That's what mom wanted, and I'm not going to let you run me off like you ran her—"

Joe's fist grabbed a beer bottle off of the closest table and he hurled it at the wall behind Samantha's head, causing her to instinctively duck. Then hands had her and were hauling her away from the door, angry voices snarling in a language she barely knew any of the words from. No one had to throw her father out this time, because he had already been leaving. Then Joe was gone, taking her chance to speak to him along with him.

It was Seth who had grabbed her, Seth who had stopped her from running after Joe and forcing her father to listen, no matter how angry he was. It was Seth who trapped her in a grip she couldn't break no matter how hard she tried. Only after the sound of Joe's vehicle leaving the parking lot had faded did he let her go. Samantha didn't say a word as Seth released her, just about the time that Jake trotted in, looking breathless.

"_**What happened**_?" he demanded, voice rolling with an authority that rolled off of Samantha like water. In the room full of people, only she could ignore Jacob Black.

Stupid. She was so stupid. She had felt sympathy for Seth for a moment. She had felt ashamed in her anger, ashamed when Seth was only protecting his family. She had believed him when he had said he'd only hit Joe once. But there was no way…there was no way all that damage had been done with a single punch. He had lied to her, manipulated her, made her want to believe _in_ him. Made her feel guilty and unkind to be causing him pain.

What complete bullshit.

"Samantha, what happened?" Jake repeated, focusing all of his attention on her.

"Your _friend_," she replied coldly, shifting her grip on the smooth wood beneath her fingertips.

Then—in front of a significant portion of the eligible foster families in La Push who didn't want her anyways—Samantha Carter spun and cracked Seth Clearwater with her cue stick across the left side of his face.

* * *

><p>In the end she walked home, not that Samantha could really call it that.<p>

Jake's house was his home, not hers. Her date had been willing to drive her—seeming more amused than anything at her attack on Seth—but Samantha had needed a chance to walk and think. Somewhere that Jacob Black's arms and shoulders and lazy smile didn't affect her so easily. Somewhere…anywhere…she didn't feel so stupid. Trying to talk to Joe had been stupid. Turning on Seth had been stupid. It had been a long time since she had felt stupid, and Samantha didn't like the shame and the anger and the hurt curling through her stomach. Things were hard enough without having to feel this way.

A familiar figure was sitting on the steps leading into the dojo. This time Embry wasn't drinking water. What he had at his hip was far stronger, and his chocolate brown eyes seemed darker than normal as he sat alone in the darkness. And just like every afternoon, he tipped a bottle her way in silent invitation to join him. Samantha sat down, wondering if he already knew. These people always knew everything about each other.

She accepted the bottle and took a drink. The alcohol burned down her throat, warming her chest then her stomach. Samantha swallowed with a faint grimace, and then she took a second drink.

"Everclear?" she asked, handing the bottle back.

"Moonshine. Quil's grandfather makes it."

Embry had changed into normal clothes, nice clothes, but he didn't seem to be headed anywhere. He drank longer and deeper than she had, and then Embry set the bottle between their hips.

"Thanks," Samantha said quietly. "I've had a rough night."

Her sensei leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and staring unseeing across the road. "Seems like you've had a rough month," Embry rumbled, drinking from the bottle like it was nothing but weak beer, tasteless to his tongue.

Embry was closer to the truth than he could possibly know. Samantha exhaled a half-laugh and took another drink, licking her lips. The moonshine was making her mouth go numb.

"I hit Seth tonight."

He already knew, or he had a really good poker face because Embry didn't react at all. So Samantha cleared her throat and continued. "Dad's face was all messed up and I just lost it. I know it was stupid. I'm sorry I wasted your time, sensei. I know you'll have to kick me out of the dojo now."

"Yeah, I probably should," Embry said dryly. He tapped the bottle against his calf, and then he sighed tiredly. "But I'm not."

She looked at him quickly, and her sensei offered her a quirked smile. "You could have gone home, but you came here to tell me. I'm not saying I agree with your decisions, Sam, but I can see why you made them."

"Then you're the only one in this town that can. I saw their faces, sensei. They all think I'm crazy."

Crazy. Crazy wasn't supposed to happen for another couple years yet.

"Jake shouldn't have taken you there," Embry finally said, his voice dropping to a soft tone that barely carried to her ears. "It's not his fault. He's proud of you, and he wanted to show you off. The girls wanted to meet you, and Seth was pushing to get to talk to you again. But I knew you weren't ready. I tried to tell Jake that, but he's pissed at me right now for being so tough on you. Not his fault either…the other guys would have kicked my ass for it days ago."

Samantha didn't know what to say to that. Embry looked unhappy and guilty for having spoken at all, and he lapsed into silence. So they sat there, sharing the moonshine until Samantha was pretty sure that she was getting drunk. Which meant that she was only growing quieter.

"I know La Push hasn't been good to you, Sam," Embry finally said. He pulled out his key chain and took a small unmarked key from the group. "But you always have a place to go when it isn't. No matter what choices you do or don't make."

She blinked at him in surprise. "You're giving me a key? You barely know me, Embry."

"I know you better than you think." Embry took her hand and cupped it in his, dropping the cup into her palm. "You're my student, Sam. Every time you turn and fight, it's my fist you're throwing. Remember that next time."

"There won't be a next time," Samantha said loyally, but Embry only chuckled.

"Sam, if you're anything like him, there's always a next time." He stood up, tall and strong and smiling down at her, and Samantha's heart skipped a beat. For a moment Embry Call was the most handsome man Samantha had ever seen. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

Samantha tucked the key into her pocket for safe keeping, and then she stood up on slightly wobbly legs. "If I'm not getting kicked out, then I'm doing more pushups, aren't I?"

Embry's chocolate eyes sparkled in the moonlight. "Sweetheart, if I make you do more pushups, your arms will fall off. Don't worry, I'll figure out a new torture technique so that I get to keep you around."

And as he walked her to a stranger's home, past a house she'd been kicked out of, across a town that she didn't belong, Samantha couldn't help but smile and bump her shoulder playfully into Embry's.

Maybe there was someone who wanted her after all.


End file.
